The Fanfic The Author Wouldn't Read
by HonorLove
Summary: The main characters are OFCs: one is a de-aged Immortal, the other is a witch. I am trying to avoid Mary Sues. This was intended to help be get back into writing after years away, then I figured I'd go ahead and post it to see if anyone would actually read it. Semi-Positive Snape; Slytherin main characters
1. Acceptance Letters

A/N: So, we have here two OFCs who are the main characters, clichés abound for the both of them. This was an attempt to get me back into writing after years of being away. It mostly worked, so I'm unapologetic about most of it. Still, let me know if there's any constructive criticism. Flames will be combed over for aforementioned cc then laughed at. No pairings yet: they may show up if I get to Book 4 or 5, but not really until then (as it stands, I'm stuck around Christmas Book 1).

**Chapter 1**

**Acceptance Letters**

Somewhere in Little Whinging, Surrey, an eleven year old boy was retrieving the mail before breakfast. Amongst the bills and advertisements would be a letter of parchment, the first letter that boy ever got.

This is not his story.

At the same time the emerald-eyed boy was staring at his envelope, an eleven year old girl was waiting by the window in her room. It was a rather impersonal room; it seemed decorated as a guest room would be, complete with an inoffensive landscape. Upon closer inspection of the tranquil, pastoral scene, however, it became clear that something was amiss. One could see the trees waving ever so slightly in the breeze.

The bed was done up with a plain, dark blue bedspread, and there was a small desk in the corner. There was a wardrobe, and a door led to what was apparently an en-suite, but the only personal touches to the room were the books on the bookshelf and the trunk sitting at the foot of the bed. The drapes were the same dark blue as the bedspread, and the raven-haired waif was dressed in a pale blue robe that off-set her quite well.

Suddenly, the girl sat upright, staring intently out the window. Off in the distance, was that movement? She leaned forward until her nose was nearly touching the glass, before hopping off the windowsill. She opened the window wide, her light brown eyes full of excitement. Still, though it seemed she would vibrate from the energy she was repressing, her feet stayed firmly on the floor, and she didn't make a sound as the speck in the distance came closer and finally grew large enough to see.

It was an owl.

The owl itself was as unremarkable version of its species, if one discounted the bird's complete lack of knowledge that the sun in the sky meant it should be sleeping. As it came closer, however, it became clear that the owl's diurnal activity was the least of its oddness. In its claws, it carried an envelope. The envelope was, in fact, nearly identical to the one the boy in Surrey was currently wishing he'd had the forethought to hide before his uncle could see it and take it from him. The only difference was that this one was addressed as such:

_Belinda Black_

_ The Small Blue Bedroom on the Second Floor_

_ Avery Manor_

_ Lannon, Wales_

Belinda, for that's what the young girl's parents had named her, clutched her envelope tightly for several moments. If a pre-teen girl could squeal silently, that's what Belinda appeared to be doing. The silent shriek of joy only lasted a moment before she took up a snake-headed letter opener that had been resting on the windowsill for just this purpose. She sliced open the envelope and took the pages out. Despite having a good idea what it would say, she read over the enclosed pages with all the care of a lawyer perusing a document he was about to sign.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards)_

_Dear Belinda Black,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

The second page was a list of supplies, a small number of which she already had. However, the lack of several of the books—and more importantly, a wand—would necessitate a trip to Diagon Alley.

Belinda sat down on her bed with a great sigh. She was pretty sure it wasn't relief, more like thanks that finally, after too many long years of drifting from house to house, caregiver to caregiver, she would at long last have a place she could call home. After all, it was said her father had considered it his first home, so why shouldn't she hold hopes it would be the same for her?

After a few moments of composing herself, Belinda tucked the envelope into a pocket in her robes and headed down to breakfast, in hopes of finding her current guardian.

She was in luck: shortly before she finished eating, he entered the dining room and summoned the house-elf, Tilly. Upon seeing him enter, Belinda stood and curtsied. "Good morning, Mr. Avery."

Avery looked up at his ward and nodded once, brusquely. It was a pain in the ass having to care for the girl, but Lucius Malfoy had managed to pawn her off on him until the start of her first Hogwarts term.

Belinda was used to such dark looks: not one of her various guardians had been what you could term "personable." She took her seat again. "Mr. Avery," Belinda said after a moment, "I received my Hogwarts letter this morning. When do you think we'll be able to go to Diagon Alley?"

"Finally," Avery muttered. "Was half-wondering if Lucius had lied and you'd turned out a squib." The only insults worse than being a squib in the circles she had been raised in were "blood traitor" and "Mudblood lover" with "Mudblood lover" being just slightly harsher. Still, Belinda didn't react outwardly to the insult. It'd been said about her before, and likely would again. She just looked at Avery, unblinking. She'd found that, due to some quirk of genetics, she could outstare just about anyone. And when she just _looked_ at people, they tended to get very uncomfortable.

Sure enough, Avery began to twitch after just a few moments. "We'll go into London at the end of August," he finally snapped. "You can get your supplies the day before you leave for school."

Belinda nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Avery. May I be excused?"

He nodded curtly, and as Belinda made her escape she heard behind her, "Damn unnatural how she does that."

Belinda smirked slightly as she went back up to her room to review _Magical Drafts and Potions_.

HP/HL/HP/HL/HP/HL

Meanwhile, half a world away in an abandoned warehouse, an adult woman was fighting for her life in a swordfight against a taller, stronger opponent. He soon had her disarmed and on her knees and, as he raised his sword over his head, he paused to gloat; "There can be only one."

The woman thrust out with the dagger that had been hidden in her coat. Despite her pain and fatigue, her aim was true and he gasped as he stared down at the hilt sticking out of his heart. He coughed once before dropping his sword and falling to the ground. The woman coughed a couple times and tried to catch her breath. "Come on, Diana," she muttered. "He's not going to stay dead long." She forced herself to move, despite feeling her life's blood pouring out of the wound in her side. Diana—for that's what she'd named herself—didn't bother looking for her sword. She just took her opponent's and used it to take off his head.

Finally, content in the knowledge that she was safe, Diana let herself die before the Quickening had a chance to take her.

It was dark out when Diana finally gasped her way back to life. She rolled onto her back where she lay for several moments, gathering her strength. She could tell right away that "Francis de Gali" was older than she had originally surmised. Unfortunately, she wasn't exactly in a position to settle the Quickening now: she needed to get out of here and back to her car where she had a change of clothes. After taking a moment to retrieve both her sword and his, then rifling through de Gali's pockets for any valuables, she left his body to the Watchers she knew would still be around and stumbled out of the warehouse.

An hour later, Diana pulled into the driveway of her apartment and felt the presence of another Immortal. She looked around carefully before getting out of the car, then pulling her sword. She went to the door of her apartment and, unsurprisingly, found it unlocked. She toed the door open, ready for anything.

Except the stench the wafted out the door at her. She did, however, spot the source of the Buzz before she was overcome by the smell. "Good gods, Sensei!" she snapped as she covered her nose and mouth. She stepped inside and closed the door. "What the _hell_ are you doing in here?"

Adam Pierson, known only to a few as Methos, smirked at his student. "I was just enjoying a beer. Blame him for the smell."

Diana's gaze followed the direction Adam was pointing and saw Connor McLeod (of the Clan McLeod) standing in her kitchen, stirring what looked to be a cauldron on her stove. The blue-eyed Scotsman gave Adam a dirty look before returning most of his attention to the cauldron. "_You_ asked me to make it," was the retort.

Diana interrupted, knowing full well the two could argue for hours if they got going. "I don't really care whose fault it is, _what_ is it? Because if that smell sinks into the carpeting, I'm never getting my deposit back. And if it sinks into my upholstery, I'll kill you both while you sleep."

Adam laughed as he draped himself bonelessly into Diana's favorite chair. "Ah, little one. There's plenty of time for that later. What have you been doing tonight? Or should I ask whose head you've been taking?"

Diana glared at him as the reminder of her earlier activities caused the unfamiliar Quickening to surge against her again. She rubbed her arms, trying to get the hair on them to stop sticking up. "Frances de Gali," she growled. "And before you say anything," she hastened, seeing the scolding Adam was about to send her way, "I _tried_ to get to Holy Ground, the bastard cut me off. At that point it was fight him, or he was going to stab me in the middle of the street, drag me away and take my head without giving me a chance to wake up."

Connor's low, smoky voice cut in. "How'd you take him out? Because I've sparred with you: you're not as good as he is."

Diana threw a smirk to Adam before turning back to Connor. "I managed because, when he had me down and disarmed, he couldn't resist a 'There can be only one,' and Sensei here drilled me for _months_ on things to do in that position."

Adam's smirk grew slowly and Connor laughed low. "Oh really, Diana?"

Diana blushed. "Not like that!" She hesitated. "Well, not that he didn't…I mean…." Her voice trailed off as both of the older Immortals began laughing outright at her. "Oh, I hate you guys," she muttered as she threw herself onto the couch.

Connor was fully aware that there were aspects to Diana's training that Adam would never tell Duncan. Truthfully, Connor approved of what he knew of it: females lived far different lives over most of history than they did now, and Diana was certainly a product of the modern age in the Western world. She saw absolutely nothing strange about the thought that she could do anything a man could do, and while she—unlike many modern women—acknowledged that men and women had different general strengths, she saw nothing strange about working to pursue "men's work"—hell, the girl had spent some of her life as a pre-Immortal in the American military. That said, women _did_ have different lives in most of the societies Connor and Methos were familiar with, and Methos had ensured that Diana would be able to not just survive in such societies, but to thrive in them…whether by catching a weak-willed, well-positioned husband or by plying the world's oldest profession at a level no mere streetwalker could hope to aspire to. Methos still had plans to get formal geisha training for Diana.

With a shake of his head, amusement still causing a chuckle or two, Connor turned back to his project on the stove. "It's done," he announced, turning off the gas burner. He dipped a ladle into the middle of the liquid in the cauldron and poured it carefully into a waiting flask.

Diana rolled her head to look suspiciously into the kitchen. "Great. What _is_ it?" Diana knew full well that she wasn't going to get rid of either of the Immortals until they were ready to leave, and really, all she wanted right now was to have several uninterrupted hours of alone time so she could settle this damn _Quickening_.

Adam intercepted the flask. "It's good as is for twenty-four hours, correct?" he asked.

Connor nodded. "And it would be best if she settled herself, first."

"Are you two going to quit talking about me like I'm not here?"

"No," was the cool answer from her primary teacher. He stood and turned back to Connor. "Thank you," Adam told him. "We'll come by once we're done here. Don't worry about the remnants. I'll take care of them."

Connor nodded, before turning to Diana. "It's been good teaching you," he told her. "You've been a good student."

Diana blinked, all put-upon thoughts gone. "You're leaving?" She looked back and forth between Connor and Adam. "…No," she said slowly, lowering her walls to taste the pair's emotions, "Sensei is sending me elsewhere, aren't you?" she asked.

Adam nodded once. "You'll see Connor again before we leave," he assured her.

Diana turned to Connor and leapt forward to give him a hug. "Thanks for everything," she whispered. "I've had a good time learning from you." She grinned impishly. "Even if you _are_ a crazy old man."

Connor mock-glared at the young Immortal before kissing her once on the forehead. "I'll see you in a day or two. Drive the real Old Man in the room nuts before then, if you can."

"Will do!"

Adam shook his head at the pair as Connor headed out the door. He turned to Diana, studying her with a shrewd eye. "Quickening not settling?"

Diana scowled. "No," she snapped. "And I don't need your help settling it. You've told me time and again I have to be able to take care of these things myself."

The world's oldest Immortal let the mask drop and Methos stared at Diana for several moments. She met his gaze for longer than most would have been able to, but still looked away in the end. When Methos spoke, his voice was quiet and even. "Go. Run your preferred course. At least five miles." Diana's muted snarl made him smirk slightly. "You know you need to remember your own skin to settle the Quickening. Easiest way to do that is physical activity."

Diana muttered, "I don't want to have to carry my sword. Would you mind following me? Car, bike, whatever?"

"At least you realize I'm not running with you," he said, amused. The pair headed out the door.

Four hours later found Methos waiting for Diana to emerge from the bathroom. A mischievous smile crossed his face as he thought of what the evening would bring. Oh, she was going to be livid with him.

Diana came out, toweling her hair dry. "So, Sensei, was there a discussion we were going to have before I went and got us distracted with the exercise session from hell?"

"Not a discussion as such." He held out the tumbler of blue liquid. "Drink this."

Diana wrinkled her nose as the scent wafted to her again. "I'd rather not," she demurred.

"I didn't ask what you wanted, student-mine." Diana looked up into the face of her teacher, a bit surprised. "I told you to drink it."

She sighed. This was the Immortal born in a time when you did what you were told without arguing, or even procrastinating the way she currently was. In fact, she could see the arrogant anger of "how dare she" begin to enter his eyes. She reached out and grabbed the glass. "Well, it is a pretty shade of navy. Bottoms up," she said weakly. She closed her nose with her free hand, squeezed her eyes shut, and downed the contents.

Almost immediately she shuddered. "Gah! That stuff's worse than Robitussin!" She waved a hand uselessly in front of her, like she was trying to wave away the taste. "_Please_ tell me I can have a chaser!"

Methos smiled at her and, despite the near-trauma she was going through, she felt a streak of fear flow through her and settle near the base of her spine. It was a smile she hadn't seen on him since he'd been playing Death for Kronos during the Horsemen debacle. Instinctively she started trying to trace ways out of the apartment. However, all Methos did was casually look at his watch for several seconds, then look back up at her. "Good night, child."

Diana felt a brief stab of pain in her gut, then fell over dead.

When Diana woke, it was silently and slow. Confusion had plenty of time to settle in. Usually she didn't awaken from death this slowly. She found herself trying to move and being unable to move much, due to a sore ache in her body. Her confusion only increased at that discovery: she hadn't been _sore_ since she'd died her First Death. Oh, there had been occasional aches like her body was trying to tell her it _should_ be sore, but she hadn't had actual muscle soreness like she had at the moment. A groan escaped her lips.

"Ah good, you're awake."

Diana would have wept at the sound of her teacher's voice, but she could tell her Sensei was back to being "Adam" again. As such, he probably wasn't going to sit back and enjoy her pain.

Sure enough, an icy wetness was pushed through her lips. "These are ice chips," Adam told her. "Just let them melt in your mouth until you can talk."

It took about four or five of them before Diana felt comfortable trying for speech. "I hurt," she rasped. "Why do I hurt?" The higher-than-expected pitch of own voice caused Diana to finally try to open her eyes. "And why does my voice sound funny?"

"Do you feel up to moving yet?" Adam asked, ignoring her question.

Diana gave him a suspicious look, but nodded slowly before trying to raise herself to a sitting position. It was slow going, but she got upright before long. That was when she realized that something else was odd.

Diana looked down at herself and shrieked. "My _chest_ is gone!"

Adam winced a bit at the high pitch of her voice. "Ah, yes. About that…."

She turned to him and glared. "What the hell, Sensei?" She looked back down at herself, then around the room, her confusion and—frankly—fear amplifying. "And I'm shorter. And scrawnier. And…what the _fuck_!?"

Adam kept a wary eye on his young student. "The potion you drank earlier. It was a de-aging potion."

Diana fell silent for several moments. She inhaled slowly, then raised her eyes to look at Adam again. "A de-aging potion?" she repeated.

Adam relaxed. Diana had a bit of a temper that she would only let out around people she trusted. Others could still piss her off, but she generally held it in and ended up falling prey to anxiety issues. Frankly, it had taken him about three years to teach her ways to manage things and he was glad to see her putting some of the techniques to work. Of course it helped that while Diana's temper might flash at a moments' notice, she also tended to get over things quickly. "Yes. The empathy you mentioned to Connor that you had recently developed?" She nodded slowly. "It's an indication that you may have magical talent. Connor confirmed it a month ago, and we only waited this long for the potion because we wanted to make sure you would be accepted to a decent magic school before we set it off."

Diana looked at Adam with a flat gaze. "Magic?"

"Ah, yes? Magic is real, its practitioners are called wizards and witches, and they live in a society separate from but alongside what they call, 'The Muggle World.'"

"I _know_ magic is real," Diana told him. "I met the Charmed Ones in San Francisco while I was playing courier for Connor. You know, when I killed that demon and my empathy kicked in full blast?"

"Let me rephrase. _Wanded_ magic is real." Diana looked surprised at that one. "And wand-style magic tends to be what we Immortals are most capable at. So, while you get up and start stretching those sore muscles," he smirked at the dirty look Diana gave him, "I'll explain a few things about your status now."

The deaging potion apparently brought about its own issues. Diana still registered as Immortal to the Buzz, so she would be able to sense other Immortals, but ones that weren't in the know about the Order of the Fulmina wouldn't know she wasn't a child Immortal. Holy Ground would still protect her, and she would still come back from death, but her healing while alive had slowed to a point where it was only a little faster than a mortal's healing.

Then Adam went on to review the status of Immortals in the Wizarding World. They were known, but called Dark Creatures and soul-stealers. It seems one of the wizards (or witches) had seen a Quickening and come away from it thinking Immortals could do that to anyone. Thankfully, they had no good way to identify Immortals, so the warriors could still sneak in and out of the society like they did the rest of the world. Still, Diana would have to not mention Immortals or let on the fact that she didn't stay dead.

Still, one enterprising Immortal-wizard had created a "not so secret" society: The Order of the Fulmina. Diana was mildly surprised to hear it was Hugh Fitzcairn; she loved the dead man, but wouldn't have given him credit for enough smarts to organize such a thing. It was now public, though not common, knowledge that the Order of the Fulmina would occasionally send children to various schools in the Wizarding World, though never more than one at a school. (The Immortals did that for their own protection, not out of any real desire to limit how many of them could go to a school.) The students would have legal status as adults, though there would always be a senior member of the Order who would be the student's guide and would stand in as the student's guardian in circumstances where one might be needed.

"But why England?"

"Scotland," Adam corrected, with the long-suffering tone of a Brit used to dealing with a geographically-challenged American.

Diana grinned. "I know. But still. Isn't there a school in, say, the US?"

"Yes, there's one in Salem and one near LA. However, I'm in Paris right now, back with the Watchers. I've only got another couple of years before I'm going to _have_ to kill this identity off. So, you need to be closer to me than on the opposite side of the Atlantic, and I don't trust your French enough to send you to school there. Besides. It's past time you lived long term somewhere _other_ than this country. So, here."

He handed over an envelope. Diana looked at the address.

_Miss Diana Adamson_

_ Order of the Fulmina_

_ Third Floor, East Bedroom_

_ Nash Antiques_

_ New York, New York, USA_

Diana sighed. "So, who's taking me shopping for some clothes?"


	2. Gringotts

A/N: So, no review as of yet. Oh well.

**Chapter 2**

**Gringotts Bank**

Belinda was jerked to a halt by a hand on her arm. She turned and scowled at Avery. "You've got your vault key," he told her, "so go get your things. I'll be in the Leaky Cauldron when you're done. Don't get into trouble!" He shook her once, then turned and headed back to the entrance of the Alley.

Belinda watched him go and waited till the entryway had closed before hissing, "Merlin, I hate that man." She shook herself briefly, took a deep breath, and let out her annoyance on the exhale. "First stop…."

"…Gringotts! It's the bank system Wizards use," Connor told Diana. He kept his voice low as he continued. "Run by goblins, so don't stare." Both he and Diana were dressed in wizards' robes, and Diana felt downright ridiculous. Connor was dressed in dark grey, trimmed with white; he'd managed to get Diana into a lovely dark blue set that had been trimmed in yellow. Diana was doing her best _not_ to look like a first-time tourist. It was difficult, but she had managed so far to keep her apparent interest at the "first time in London, but familiar with the Wizarding World" level.

The pair entered the gleaming white edifice, pausing only to let Diana read the inscription on the doors. After a waiting in line to see a teller, Connor inclined his head to the goblin. "My name is Connor McLeod of the…Order of the Fulmina." Diana nearly giggled at the hitch when Connor had to stop himself from saying 'of the Clan McLeod.' Connor shot her a repressing look as he continued, "My companion is Diana Adamson, also of the Order of the Fulmina. Her teacher set up an account for her; he said he'd make arrangements for us to pick up the key here."

The teller narrowed his eyes at the pair. "I'll need proof of her identity."

Diana blinked a couple times. "I'm sorry, I don't have any ID," she told him dryly.

"Nonsense, wouldn't trust it if you did have it," the goblin informed her. He rooted around behind the counter for several moments before pulling out a sheet of parchment and a black quill. "Just sign your name here," he told her, pointing to a line and handing over the quill.

Diana took the quill in hand and got a good look at the parchment. It had a series of runes around it, making a pretty border that Diana suspected was more than just a pretty decoration. There as one line on the page, right in the middle. Diana shrugged and looked around for a moment. "What about ink?" She wasn't terribly familiar with writing with a quill, but Adam and Connor had insisted she practice at least a little bit.

"You won't need it," the goblin told her. "That's a contract-signing quill. It uses your own blood for ink. It does _not_, however, etch the words into your hand the way a blood quill would, nor does it include the mild compulsory effect of said Dark Artifacts."

Diana stared at the quill for another moment or two before giving in and signing her full name:

_Diana Morgan Adamson_

She lifted the quill and looked up at the goblin. She saw him staring intently at the parchment and so looked down just in time to see her name sink into the paper before the blood appeared to seep back out the words:

_Diana Morgan Hunter_

_ Diana Morgan O'Malley_

Diana stared in shock at the name she had given up more than seven years before—she'd nearly forgotten her original surname of O'Malley. Her name of the last seven years (Hunter) barely registered. "I…I…."

The goblin whisked the parchment away and plucked the quill from the girl's unresisting fingers. "Don't worry, Mr. Pierson explained that the real you would have some variations pop up. This verifies your identity." He reached into another drawer and plucked out a key. "This would be yours, young lady."

Diana took the key, still half in shock. She barely noticed Connor's quiet laugh, or how he directed her to follow another goblin that had been instructed to take them to her vault. She certainly came back to herself during the ride, though!

Several minutes later found Diana staring at the interior of her vault. "This is all _mine_?" she asked incredulously.

Connor laughed. "Yes, Diana. This is all yours. The Wizarding World never went away from using gold, silver, and copper as money."

"Gold?" Diana said faintly, stepping into the vault and picking up one of the gold coins. "This is _real_ gold?"

Connor smiled as Diana licked the galleon in her hand. "It's goblin gold."

Diana glanced at Connor, then at the goblin. "So what would happen if I were to take this to a metallurgist for purity testing?"

The goblin glared. "While Gringotts applied the appropriate fines, the Ministry of Magic would arrest you for breaking the Statute of Secrecy."

Diana smiled. "Understood." She turned back to the vault. "Well, first things first." She walked over to the one non-monetary item in the small, closet-style room. It was a large steamer trunk, made of a lovely dark wood, with black leather straps and silver fixings. On top of the trunk was an envelope, addressed to Diana. Inside the envelope was a letter from Adam.

_This is my present to you as a "Welcome back to school" gift. It's made of black walnut heartwood, bicorn leather, and real silver so take good care of it. I left the main compartment unlocked and put the keys inside (I maintain a set, just in case). There's also an expandable bag for you to put today's money in. Each key opens a different compartment. The main one is where I would keep most of your day to day things. I put a few books in the second compartment that I thought you might enjoy…._ Diana groaned at the thought of the sorts of books Adam would have left for her. Then she laughed at the next line. _…and stop that groaning young lady! I set up the third compartment to hold your wardrobe, seeing as how you'll be essentially living out of this trunk for the next seven years. The fourth and fifth compartments are yours to do with as you wish, though you'll appreciate knowing the fifth compartment is actually a small room. For your starting galleons…Cassandra sent a message to me for you, by way of Duncan. She said you should start with three hundred galleons, and don't be stingy._

_ I'm not sure why: that much should be enough to outfit two students easily, even with good gear._

_ Good luck,_

_ Adam Pierson_

Diana muttered to herself, "That's not ominous, not at all." She looked at up. "Right. Connor, how much do you think I should grab?" she asked as she opened the trunk to retrieve the keys and money pouch.

Connor paused a moment and seemed to do some math. "One hundred galleons should be plenty."

Diana nodded absently. "That's about what Sensei said."

Connor shrugged. "Well, if you're worried about having enough money on hand, or you want to get good quality things, you could always double that."

Diana frowned a moment, then began counting out piles of galleons. "Well, it's not like I'll have access to it during the school year," she reasoned. "And it's not like cash goes bad." So saying, she decided to err on the side of rampant paranoia and put two hundred galleons in her money pouch and two hundred galleons in one of the drawers in the main compartment of the trunk. After all, if Cassandra was sending a message through her most hated foe, it was probably something very important. Then she closed and locked it, and grabbed the handle. "Ready when you are."

The goblin grunted before ushering them both back to the mine cart.

Diana found herself enjoying the cart ride far more than she should have. She wasn't generally the type to enjoy thrill rides, but this reminded her of a class trip in sixth grade where she raced from roller coaster to roller coaster…and exulted in the thrill of each one.

So she was still glowing and more energetic than ever when they emerged into the main area of the bank. Connor had made the mistake of offering to take her trunk, so now Diana was bouncing around him. "That was so much _fun_!" she exclaimed. "I wanna go again! Can we? Is there—"

She froze when she felt a Buzz. She and Connor both began scanning the crowd. Almost immediately, however, the Buzz faded. Diana exchanged a glance with Connor, both realizing that the other Immortal had probably fled. But if he or she hadn't gone far, if they were just looking for a better place for a confrontation, it was going to be up to Connor to defend Diana. As much as she hated to admit it, her child's body was certainly not any way to win a Challenge.

So she was paying attention to her surroundings again when a young voice exclaimed, "But I need to get into my account so I can pay for my school things!"

Diana stopped walking and looked around for the girl who sounded like she was near-tears. It was a short moment before she saw a girl about her own now-apparent age that was standing at one of the tellers.

From what Diana could see, there was no adult anywhere near her. The girl was short and skinny and wearing plain, faded green robes that barely hung to the ankle, showing off a pair of worn black boots. Her black hair was curly and more than a little wild, but an attempt had been made to pull it back into a ponytail…though the hair seemed to be trying to escape. The girl was fair-skinned but a little pink, like she had gotten a lot of sun recently but generally wasn't used to it. She was holding a vault key with a tight grip, and her copper brown eyes were shining with desperation.

As Diana edged closer, she heard the teller say, "I'm sorry, but the Ministry has placed a hold on that vault again," in a tone that didn't sound sorry in the least.

The girl looked around desperately. _Almost like she's looking for help that won't be there,_ Diana thought to herself. Then their gazes locked.

Diana hadn't been expecting it, and so hadn't reinforced her mental-emotional barriers to prevent her empathy from kicking in. The girl's fear and frantic desperation, with just a hint of old rage slammed into Diana, knocking her backwards a step. The girl broke their stare with a light blush and Diana was able to recover herself. Forgetting that she was supposed to be following Connor, Diana steeled herself and walked over to the girl. She held out a hand. "Hi. My name is Diana."

The girl stared at Diana for several moments before slowly taking the offered hand. "Belinda."

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't help overhearing a bit of that. You're having banking problems?"

The teller cut in. "There's nothing else I can do for you, Miss Black. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Belinda looked worriedly at the teller again before Diana tugged on her arm. "Come on," Diana urged. "Let's talk outside." Diana semi-dragged the unresisting girl out of Gringotts and across the street to a conveniently located bench.


	3. Shopping

A/N: Here, have another one!

**Chapter 3**

**Shopping**

"So, apparently you can't get into your vault?"

Belinda blushed at the girl before her. She carried herself with the confident air of at least a fifth year student, but physically looked like a first or second year. Her chestnut brown hair was braided in two braids that rested in front of her shoulders, while her blue-grey eyes were earnest and warm. She was wearing a beautiful, obviously new set of navy blue robes trimmed in yellow that looked to be of a different style than was common in London. Most telling of all, however, was Diana's American accent.

Belinda finally nodded, more than a little embarrassed. "No, I can't. The Ministry…."

Diana cut her off. "That part's not my business. Unless you _want_ to make it my business?"

Belinda tried to tame her raging blush and shook her head. "I'd rather not, no offense."

Diana shook her head. "None taken. The reason I ask, is because I was advised by…." Belinda watched as Diana seemed to consider for a moment. "A seer told me to take extra money from my vault, and to 'not be stingy.' Not fifteen minutes later, I overhear you with the teller."

Belinda stood up, her back iron rod straight, her eyes flashing. "I don't need charity!" she snapped. She'd heard the phrase 'poor relation' too many times from Aunt Narcissa and Uncle Lucius to be willing to take handouts from a complete stranger.

Diana rolled her eyes. "I'm not talking about charity. I'm talking about a loan. You can pay me back when your finances are straightened out."

Belinda slowly sat back down, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "What kind of interest rate?"

Diana sighed. "This isn't exactly my area of expertise. I'd be happy for a straight repayment, honestly. The money's going to just sit in my account otherwise." She could see Belinda begin to stiffen and added, "Pay it forward."

"What?" Belinda had never heard such a phrase before.

Diana smiled. "It means that, someday, when you find someone else in dire straits, you help them out, despite there being nothing in it for you. You do this for three people." Belinda stared at Diana. "You don't have to pay me back, you just pay it forward to the next three people. And when they ask what they can do in return for your assistance, you tell them to pay it forward." She considered a moment. "Also, you can act as tour guide today and help me figure out where to get my school supplies, if you're interested." Diana seemed pleased with herself that she'd thought of that.

Belinda tried to see what the advantage for Diana was, but couldn't find one beyond the tour guide bit—and even that was something that she clearly didn't really need. "What are you getting out of this?" she asked. _No one_ helped her out like this without expecting something in return.

Diana shrugged. "Once upon a time, when I was down on my luck, someone helped me out once when I needed it. This is me paying it forward. Not to mention I get the warm fuzzy feeling of knowing I helped out a fellow classmate-to-be." She paused a moment. "You _are_ just starting Hogwarts, right?"

Belinda blinked in surprise. "You're a first year too?"

Diana grinned. "Yep. And looking forward to going to school here in Britain."

"So why aren't you going to Salem?"

A masculine voice cut in. "There you are. Diana, where have you been? I've been looking all over for you."

Diana looked up, surprised, then blushed. "I'm sorry, Connor," she said, sounding almost surprised at herself. "I got distracted with Belinda's problem and…um…I guess I forgot to stay close," she admitted. Belinda wasn't sure, but the brunette looked almost baffled at herself.

"Connor" shook his head. "Keep close, I still don't know who's around, and there isn't exactly any…," he glanced at Belinda, "…anywhere safe around here."

Diana nodded contritely. "I'm sorry Connor. I'll be more careful."

"So, who's your new friend?"

"Oh! This is Belinda Black, she's starting Hogwarts this year too. Belinda, this is Connor McLeod. He's taking me shopping because Sensei couldn't make it; he had a prior engagement in Paris."

Belinda stood and curtsied slightly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. McLeod," she said softly.

Connor smiled gently at the girl as he bowed a bit at the waist. "The pleasure is all mine," he told her. As Belinda blushed at the warmth in his voice, he turned to Diana. "Not to pull you away from your new friend, but we do have shopping to get done."

Diana nodded once, then turned to Belinda. "So? Are you coming with us?"

Belinda pulled her ponytail in front of her and began playing with the ends of it. On the one hand, it was taking charity (though a palatable form of it) from a stranger. On the other hand, Avery sure wouldn't give her the money to buy her school supplies and Uncle Lucius would be difficult to get hold of. Not to mention it was the day before she had to leave for school. Finally, she swallowed her pride. "It's a loan?" she confirmed. At Diana's nod, Belinda held out her hand. "Deal."

Diana took it and shook. "Deal." Diana wasn't smiling—and Belinda was grateful for that—but the sheer pleasure in her eyes was surprising to her.

Connor raised an eyebrow. "Do I want to know?" he asked dryly.

Diana laughed and shrugged. "That's up to you. But it's business between Miss Black and myself. I won't be discussing it with you. If she wants to, that's up to her."

Connor shook his head. "Where do you want to go first?"

Diana turned to Belinda. "You look passingly familiar with the area. Where do you want to start?"

Belinda gestured a little further into the alley. "We should probably start with Ollivander's to get our wands. That way we can work our way towards the entrance of the Alley."

"Sounds like a plan. Let's go!"

As the trio entered the wand maker's shop, there was a tinkle from the bell over the door. Fortunately, there wasn't anyone in the shop at the moment…though there wasn't really any sign of the shopkeeper either.

After several moments, Diana piped up. "Hello?"

An old man stepped out from between the stacks of boxes so quickly after Diana spoke that all three of them jumped. "Hello, hello. Welcome to Ollivanders. Here to purchase your wands, are you?" he said, gazing at the two girls shrewdly. "Some think they can choose their own wands, but that doesn't work, no, not at all." He paused in front of Connor. "I never sold you a wand," he said slowly.

"No, you didn't," Connor agreed. "But mine is perfectly serviceable. I'm here as escort to these two young ladies."

Ollivander eyed Connor for a moment longer, before looking down at the pair before him. His eyes widened and his gaze flickered back and forth as though he wasn't sure who to focus on. "Oh my, oh my oh my," he said softly. He finally settled on Belinda. "The daughter of—"

"I know whose daughter I am," Belinda interrupted quietly. "I'm not here to discuss my parentage; I'm here to purchase a wand. Tell me now if I should go elsewhere."

Ollivander gazed steadily at her, but she very quickly lowered her eyes. It was a matter of several moments before a wand entered her view. She looked up again. "Unicorn hair, nine inches, ash. Go on. Give it a swish."

A wave of the wand later and smoke was pouring out of it.

"No, that won't do." The wand was plucked from Belinda's grasp and another put in its place. "Try this one."

So it went, for a good fifteen minutes and dozens of wands. Finally, silvery sparks shot out of the end of Belinda's current wand. "Ah," Ollivander exhaled. "Willow with unicorn hair, a swishy ten inches long." He studied Belinda for a long moment. "A wand to grow with, young lady. May it serve you well," he intoned.

Belinda clutched the wand close and nodded once.

Ollivander turned to Diana. "And a Fulmina, attending Hogwarts this year. My, my, what interesting times we live in."

Diana narrowed her eyes at the wand maker. "With all respect, sir, I'm not interested in the theatrics. I'm just here to purchase a wand."

Ollivander raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Certainly not a dogwood person," he mused, climbing up to some of the higher shelves. A few moments later, he'd brought down several boxes. "Try this one. Spruce, twelve inches, dragon heartstring and rather inflexible."

Diana took the wand and immediately tossed it back to Ollivander. "No," she snapped. "That one hates me."

Ollivander blinked several times. "I must say, that's a first." He carefully put the wand back in its box. "What, precisely, is your gift?" he asked casually.

Diana scowled at him. "Is that really important?" At his nod, she sighed. "I'm an empath. I can feel other people's emotions." She ignored Belinda's look of surprise—which had started somewhere around Ollivander calling her a "Fulmina" and had only gotten stronger with the admission of empathy.

As Ollivander set aside all of the boxes he had just pulled out, Connor leaned over to Belinda. "All members of the Order of Fulmina have a gift that sets us apart from other wizards and witches. There are a few other qualifications, but that's one of the primary ones. Diana is a junior member."

"I know a little bit about the Fulmina Order, though not much," Belinda admitted. "Are you her teacher?"

Connor smiled and shook his head. "No, though I have had the honor of instructing her in a few things, I'm not her personal teacher. He, unfortunately, couldn't be here today and so asked me to take care of getting Diana sent off."

They were interrupted by a _crash_ as the windows of the shop blew out. Diana was holding a wand and staring, wide-eyed in shock.

Ollivander waved his wand and muttered a word, repairing the windows and took the wand from Diana. "Let's try this one."

Diana stared at the new wand in her hand. "Um…"

"Go on, give it a wave."

Diana glanced at Connor and Belinda, then back at the wand. Then she looked at Ollivander one more time before wincing, then waving the wand.

A burst of sparks shot from the wand, colored bluish-white.

Diana sighed in relief and actually kissed the handle of her wand. "Excellent. So, Mr. Ollivander, how much do we owe you?"

"Hold it," Connor interrupted. "We also want two wand care kits and two wand holsters. Girls, where would you prefer to hold your wands? Waist, forearm, or thigh?"

"Forearm," Diana said immediately.

Belinda hesitated a moment. "Thigh."

Ollivander nodded and stepped behind the counter. He assembled the extra items. "That'll be twenty-two galleons, all together."

Diana handed over the money and glanced at Belinda. "We should go get you a trunk next," she said, "so we have somewhere to put all your things."

Connor sighed dramatically. "I knew I'd turn into a pack mule before the day was over," he mock-complained.

Diana laughed as the trio left the shop. "Don't worry, Connor," she teased, "we feed our pack mules well, right Belinda?"

Belinda smiled slightly.

After purchasing a trunk, the group stopped at several stores and got their potions kits and writing supplies, and the two girls'd had a fight in Madame Malkin's about what types of robes to buy (Diana insisted on higher quality with growth charms so they'd last a couple years, Belinda hadn't wanted to spend the extra money—Diana just snuck around behind her back and had the charms added to Belinda's robes without her knowledge) and they had finally made it to the bookstore.

Connor looked from Diana to Belinda to the stacks around them. "Are you two going to want to spend some extra time in here? Because if so, I would like to go wander about a bit myself."

Diana grinned at looked at Belinda.

Belinda smirked lightly at Diana.

Fellow bibliophile recognized, the girls practically pushed Connor out of the store before letting loose.

After an hour, Connor found them again and told them they needed to wrap up. Belinda came out of the store with three books more than the required list: a Potions workbook, "Pagan Magic", and "Occlumency for Beginners." Diana, meanwhile, had gone ahead and bought all seven "Standard Book of Spells" in a lovely matched set, and a slew of other books, including a not-small number of novels and a few children's books. She'd had to break into the stash of galleons in her trunk, but considered the money well worth it: she'd be set for leisure reading material for the year, at least.

Once back out on the street, Connor pulled the girls into Florean Fortesque's for ice cream sundaes. Belinda tried to demure, but Connor insisted on each of them picking something, and he also insisted on picking up the tab. After they were several bites into their sundaes, he spoke up. "Have you gotten everything you need?" Both girls nodded, the mouths full. "Excellent. Now, as my gift to you both…" he'd grown rather fond of this young lady who had been left to shop alone, "…I want to pick you up a familiar." Both girls began to protest. "No, I insist," he said firmly, overriding their objections.

"I don't really want a pet," Diana groused.

"You hardly know me!" Belinda protested.

Connor glanced at Diana. "First of all, a familiar is not just a pet. If you don't find one that suits you, so be it. But you will look." He turned to Belinda. "And as for you, young lady." He smiled brightly. "It's my money, and if I want to spend it on someone who had made this day enjoyable, rather than just tolerable, then that's my prerogative." When Belinda started to protest again, he cut in: "Consider this my way of paying it forward."

Belinda snapped her mouth shut. She studied Connor for several moments before deciding he really was serious. "Very well," she acquiesced.

"Excellent. Well, if you're both done…?"

The girls each took one final bite of their sundaes and stood up. The trio headed over to _Magical Menagerie_, dodging the crowds that had only grown worse as the day went on. Once inside the store, the two girls began to wander around, petting the animals that were pettable, and looking at the ones that weren't.

Diana wasn't exactly pleased to be wandering around a pet store. She knew herself well enough to know she would walk out of here with more than one small, furry animal if she let herself. She understood Connor reasoning well enough, though, and lowered her shields slightly to see if anything jumped out at her.

Instantly, she could feel the amazing contentment of most of the animals. Apparently wizards cared for the animals in a pet shop far better than non-magicals tended to. The shopkeeper was watchful anticipation—probably hoping for a sale—while Connor was growing tired from their long day shopping, but was feeling rather resolute. _Probably about staying until we've had plenty of time to look around,_ Diana thought. She petted and scratched several of the animals, but none of their emotional selves jumped out at her.

On the other hand, Belinda's emotions were absolutely fascinating.

Belinda was a girl of quite a bit of reserve, who had followed Diana's lead for the most part about how much emotion she showed around Connor. Internally, she was still rather restrained; almost as though she didn't allow herself to feel the lightning flashes of emotion that most people had as their reactions to every day events. Then, Diana was certain, Belinda found a familiar. The flare of affection and joy Belinda felt nearly knocked Diana over. It was the work of a few moments before Diana felt the undercurrent, and it took several more moments before she was able to identify it.

When Diana finally did realize what the emotion was, she didn't have a convenient label for it. The Muppets had said it the best: "There's not a word yet, for old friends we've just met." It was as though whatever critter Belinda had just found had been waiting for the girl all its life.

Diana struggled to shut herself down, but she found that it was far too tempting to keep a little channel open to the young witch. There was a moment where Diana's conscience tried to scold her, but it was defeated by the enticing depth of Belinda's feelings.

When she came back to herself, Diana found her way to a back corner of the store where she found Belinda holding her left hand up in front of her. Wrapped around her hand and wrist was a small grey snake with blue speckles on it. She was holding it carefully and…hissing at it?

As Diana stared, it really did seem as though Belinda and the snake were hissing back and forth. "Um, Belinda?"

Belinda jumped and whirled, her left hand held protectively close. She had been so engrossed in the conversation with the young snake that she hadn't noticed the other girl's approach. "Diana! Hi." She smiled, trying to pretend like she hadn't been doing anything out of the ordinary. Inwardly, though, she was scolding herself roundly. _Foolish, foolish girl! You've managed all these years without anyone knowing you're a Parselmouth and you starting using it in a _pet store_ of all places! Foolish, stupid girl!_ "Have you found anything?" she asked aloud.

Diana shook her head as she came closer. Had she not kept that tendril open to Belinda's emotions, she never would have realized the girl was castigating herself. Curiosity drove Diana, however, when she asked, "Were you talking to that snake?"

Belinda held strong for a moment, but then her face fell. "Yes," she said quietly.

"Cool," Diana pronounced.

Belinda stared at Diana in shock. "You aren't from the Wizarding World, are you?" she asked.

Diana stopped, then blushed. "No, not originally. I thought I was doing pretty well. What gave me away?"

"Parselmouths are feared and hated," Belinda told her. "The Wizarding World believes that all Parselmouths—that is, people who can speak with snakes—are Dark Wizards." She waited for Diana to pull away, like she knew anyone who found out this secret would.

Diana blinked at Belinda for several moments. "Well then, the Wizarding World is wrong," she said simply. As Belinda gaped in shock, Diana continued, "Because there's no way you could ever be a Dark Wizard. You don't have the right equipment for it."

Belinda stared in confusion until she realized what Diana meant. A laugh escaped her.

Diana grinned. "So you may become a Dark Witch one day, but you'll never have to worry about becoming a Dark Wizard." Belinda began giggling. Diana, encouraged, continued. "Which isn't to say you _can't_ become a Dark Wizard if you really want to. The Muggle World has an operation for that."

Belinda's uncontrollable laughter set Diana off, and it was several long minutes before the pair could compose themselves. By that point, Connor was at the end of the aisle, shaking his head at the two of them. "Have you ladies had your look around?"

Diana sighed one last laughter sigh and nodded. "Yeah. Nothing called out to me."

Belinda stroked the snake in her hand. "I did. But snakes aren't one of the permitted pets," she lamented quietly.

Connor looked at Belinda, then looked at the tank she had obviously gotten the snake from. He raised his eyebrows in shock. If the girl was handling a boomslang without it biting her, the snake was clearly her familiar. Not that boomslangs were aggressive, they were just extremely shy and didn't like to be handled. Before he had the chance to say anything, though, he felt the Buzz of an Immortal. Both he and Diana looked up, searching for where the other Immortal could be.

There was a tinkle over the door. In walked a tall woman, with red-brown hair and copper-brown eyes. She was clad in a long, emerald green skirt and a similarly colored peasant-style blouse. She had a dark grey cloak with the hood pulled up, and at her waist hung a sword and a wand.

Diana squeaked when she saw the woman, and ducked behind Connor as the woman came right to the duo. "Hello, Connor," she said. "Diana."

"Cassandra," Connor said warmly. "It's been a long time."

Cassandra nodded, then shot a dark look at Diana. "Oh relax, child. Had I wanted to hurt you I only had to not pass you the message." She turned to the black-haired girl child. "Which I see that you got."

Connor intervened. "My apologies. Cassandra, this is Belinda Black, we're showing her around today. Belinda, this is…." He paused a raised an eyebrow at Cassandra.

Cassandra held out her hand. "I am Cassandra, the Witch of Donan Woods."

Belinda shook the woman's hand, but inwardly had her doubts. The Witch of Donan Woods was a well-known tale amongst Wizarding children—in fact, she had her own story in Tales of Beedle the Bard—and the tales did indeed imply the Witch was ageless, but the odds of meeting such a legend at a Diagon Alley pet shop were about the same as the odds of running into the most recent Quidditch World Cup's winning team while at the Leaky Cauldron. "It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

Cassandra smiled knowingly, like she could see Belinda's thoughts. Belinda was pretty sure she was safe: Legilimency didn't work that way, and none of the tales had given the Witch of Donan Woods any powers like that. Mostly she was good at compulsion. "I came at the behest of Fate," Cassandra told her, "to give you this." She handed over an envelope. "Give that to whomever your Head of House ends up being. He or She will ensure that the Headmaster gets it. It will allow you to keep your friend, there." She motioned to the snake still wrapped around Belinda's hand.

Belinda took the envelope, but still looked at Cassandra suspiciously. Belinda didn't know this woman, and Diana—who Belinda thought she was starting to trust—seemed extremely wary of her. "Why are you doing this?"

Cassandra smiled sadly at Belinda and cupped a hand on her cheek. "Oh, little one. You may not realize it yet, but you stand at a fork in the road. You can follow your parents' path, or you can forge your own. I'm merely trying to ensure that you have the option of that other path." A look of mild irritation crossed her face for a moment. "Somehow, Diana is the best option for you to be allowed to find your own path in life." She shot a smug look at Diana. "And by making sure the two of you had some time to talk to one another, I'm increasing the possibility that Diana will come to her senses about the evils of a certain individual."

Diana glared hotly at the seer. She didn't have any personal problems with Cassandra, but Cassandra unfortunately had a _lot_ of problems with Diana…starting with the young Immortal's attachment to her teacher and ending with Diana's refusal to judge either Cassandra or Methos for their actions of some three thousand plus years ago. "If that is all, Miss Cassandra," Diana said formally, "we have a purchase to make."

Cassandra smirked. "Good luck at Hogwarts," she told the pair of them. "And keep your heads down. There's all kinds of things going on there that can get foolish little Fulmina killed."

Diana tilted her chin up obstinately. Cassandra just turned to Connor, dismissing the little Immortal as a non-threat. "Connor, we should get together sometime, have dinner, catch up."

Connor, who had been shaking his head at the interplay between Cassandra and Diana, finally smiled and nodded. "I'll call you after I drop Diana at the train station tomorrow."

Cassandra nodded once, regally, before looking back at Diana. "Tsk, tsk. Apparently someone was too busy to see his student off on the schooling opportunity of a lifetime. I suppose you aren't nearly as important to him as he is to you." She strode away before Diana could sputter out a response.

Connor shook his head again. "Belinda, I'm sorry you had to witness most of that."

Belinda was staring at the door where Cassandra had disappeared. "What was that all about? And is she _really_ the Witch of Donan Woods?"

Connor laughed slightly. "Yes, she's really the Witch of Donan Woods. Cassandra hates Diana's teacher, and so doesn't get along with Diana very well. Which is a shame," he added, "as I think they'd get along quite well if they could ever manage to stop sniping at each other."

Belinda stared at Connor. "Diana _snipes _at the _Witch of Donan Woods_!?"

He nodded. "Usually. I think she was trying to stay quiet today so as not to interfere with Cassandra's business with you."

Diana finally interjected. "Pretty much," she admitted. "I'm also not at my best right now," she added sheepishly.

Belinda gave Diana a studying look, but didn't comment. The trio went to the counter and paid for Belinda's familiar, as well as a terrarium, a heated stone, a month's supply of food, and various and sundry other little items he would need. As they left the store, Diana asked, "So, do you know his name yet?"

Belinda shook her head. "I'll think of something tonight. Snakes don't generally name themselves or each other," she confided. "They identify each other by scent."

Once the three made it to the Leaky Cauldron, Belinda looked around for Mr. Avery while Connor went to pick up keys for the rooms he'd reserved for himself and Diana. Eventually, however, Belinda's face fell.

"No one here for you?" Diana sympathized.

Belinda put her mask back up. "No, not at the moment," she admitted. "I'm sure he'll be along shortly, though, so don't feel you need to stay here and wait with me."

"Nonsense," Diana assured her new friend. "We've got to eat anyway, so it's not like it'll even really be an imposition."

"If you're sure…," Belinda hesitated.

Diana rolled her eyes and dragged Belinda over to an empty booth. "Sure I'm sure," she insisted. "Quit arguing and let's order something to eat!"

It was well past dark, and most of the stores in the Alley had closed. Belinda and Diana were at their table, companionably reading. Neither felt any real need to chat with each other, which suited Connor just fine; it gave him the chance to catch up on his correspondence. Eventually, however, a cross voice interrupted the quiet scene. "There you are, foolish girl! I've been looking everywhere for you."

Belinda looked up and neither Connor nor Diana missed the flash of fear that passed over her face. Belinda snapped her book closed and hopped up, turning towards the looming man. "My apologies, Mr. Avery," she said. "I thought you said to come to the Leaky Cauldron when I was done."

Avery's face darkened, and Connor stood to intervene. "We kept her quite safe, sir," he said formally. "And we've had lunch and dinner together. I am sorry if you were put out, but the three of us have been here for the last three hours, and I'm certain you didn't walk through." Connor exchanged a look with Diana. Both were thinking they'd have felt the filth of that mind if Avery had come through. Connor turned to Belinda. "It was lovely meeting you, my dear. I look forward to seeing you again, tomorrow morning before the Hogwarts Express leaves."

"Who in Merlin's name are _you_!?" Avery snapped, pulling Belinda away from the man.

Connor smiled sharply. "Oh, didn't I say? I am Connor McLeod, Senior Member of the Fulmina Order. I'm here ensuring Diana Adamson," he motioned to her, "one of our Junior Members, picks up her things before starting her first year at Hogwarts. I'll be seeing her off on the train tomorrow."

Avery frowned, unsure of where he had heard the term "Fulmina" before. He rapidly came to the decision that this man wouldn't have the presence of Lucius Malfoy at his most domineering if he wasn't used to wielding the same sort of power Lucius was. So Avery stood down, understanding that Connor was making sure Avery realized that the other man would be looking for Belinda tomorrow and ensuring her continued good health. Avery growled, then grabbed the sleeve of Belinda's robes. "Come on, you," he snapped.

"See you tomorrow!" Diana called out to Belinda.

Belinda waved slightly before she was fairly tossed into the Floo.

Once Connor was seated again, Diana scowled at him. "What do you think the odds are that he's the reason she's so timid?"

Connor frowned a bit in thought. "I'm sure he's not pleasant, but I got the impression the worst she could expect was to not be fed between now and the train. He didn't feel like the sort to actively abuse someone in his charge. Ignore them and gripe every moment he had to acknowledge their existence, yes. Outright hurt Belinda? No."

Diana shook her head. "_Someone_ has hurt that girl, and badly," she insisted. "She's got the kind of placid, non-reactive emotions of someone who learned a long time ago that whatever you feel, nothing will change, and so it's not worth getting worked up over it."

Connor gave Diana a firm look. "Just how much time did you spend in her mind, Diana?"

Diana blushed. "I opened up in the pet store and just kind of…never quite let go of her."

Connor sighed. "Do we have to talk about the ethics of your gift again?"

"No," Diana pouted. "It's just…she's so…." Diana stopped, unable to think of a proper word to describe the feel of the other girl's emotional state.

Connor shook his head. "Diana, those rules aren't just there to make your life difficult." When he saw her scowl, he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. "Diana. You can do both yourself and her harm if you stay linked up too long. The last thing you need is to forge a bond that you can't break, and then have her die on you."

Diana blinked in shock. Connor finally released her, seeing that he had her full attention again. "_Now_ do you understand why I don't want you living in her emotions?" At Diana's nod, Connor continued, "Then we can drop this subject, and move to another. Have you noticed the way you've been acting today?"

Diana tilted her head for a moment, before she realized what Connor was referring to. "You mean where I keep acting like an eleven year old?" she asked. "I can't explain it," she told him. "Unless I'm concentrating, it's like my emotional state and my attention span drop to that of a kid."

"That's exactly what's happening," Connor told her.

"Huh?"

"That potion didn't just work on how you look, Diana. It worked on your hormones, and your brain as well. Your memories are fully intact because those are stored in your Quickening, not your mind. However you'll find yourself reverting to the mentality of an eleven year old more often than not. An eleven year old with a lot of experience," he acknowledged, "but a child nonetheless."

Diana stared at Connor in horror. "You mean I _really am a kid_!?"

Connor laughed, loud and full. "Yes, Diana," he told her. "What did you expect? And adult mind in a child's body?"

Diana's sheepish look—evidently she really _had_ expected an adult's mind in a child's body—was interrupted by a wide yawn.

"And that means an eleven year olds' bedtime," Connor finished. "Let's go up to the room, now that Belinda is home."

Diana picked up the book Belinda had left behind in her haste. "I hope she's okay," she said quietly, before following Connor out of the near-empty barroom.


	4. The Hogwarts Express

A/N: People are reading my story! And actually making it past the first chapter! I'm gonna go do a happy dance now.

**Chapter 4**

**The Hogwarts Express**

"And this is trying to be subtle?" Diana marveled.

She and Connor were at King's Cross Station—a good forty-five minutes before the train was due to leave—and Diana was marveling at the sheer number of obvious wizards and witches she could see running around before they wandering into the barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten.

Connor smiled wryly. "They think so," he told her.

Diana shook her head. "So what you're saying is if I can avoid any massive blunders, I will totally pass as Wizarding raised?"

Connor nodded. "For the common wizard, yes. And what blunders you _do_ make should be easy enough to pass off as being American. You do have to watch out for the rare few who know how to think, though. You read that recent history book Adam got you, right?"

Diana bobbled her head back and forth a bit in a so-so manner. "I looked over the whole thing, but I was only able to get through about two thirds of it," she admitted. At Connor's Look, she protested, "Remember that whole 'eleven year old bedtime' thing you insisted on last night? And I read a good chunk of it this morning. I can't read any faster if you want me to retain it."

Connor nodded once, conceding the point. "After you," he said, nudging her towards the barrier to Platform 9 ¾.

Diana took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and ran for the barrier. She stopped when she ran into someone.

They both let out an, "Oomph," and Diana landed on the ground. She opened her eyes and looked up at the tall, black haired man in front of her. He was wearing severe black robes and he glared down his long, crooked nose (that had clearly been broken and not set properly at some point in his life) at her. "I'm sorry, sir!" she chirruped, bouncing up and playing the child for all she was worth. "I didn't mean to run into you. Are you alright?" she asked seriously.

He sneered at her. "I'm fine." His eyes flickered up at the man who had just walked up behind her. "Is this yours?" the dark haired man drawled.

Connor put his hand on Diana's shoulder and squeezed. "After a fashion. I'm escorting her on behalf of her mentor. My apologies, she's a bit over-excited to be going to Hogwarts." He held out his right hand. "My name is Connor McLeod, this is Diana Adamson. Does one of these belong to you?"

The dark man drew himself up. "In a sense, they're all part mine," he said sourly, ignoring the offered hand. "I am Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House at Hogwarts."

Diana blushed a brilliant red, utterly mortified at her introduction to one of her teachers. On the other hand, she refused to apologize again. She tried to minimize the blush and was able to keep her chin up, but knew fighting the red face was a lost cause.

Connor laughed softly. "Trust Diana to run into the one professor on the platform," he said philosophically. "Will you be riding on the train to escort the children?" he continued. Professor Snape inclined his head slightly. "Excellent. I do feel better knowing there will be adult supervision, just in case," he admitted. "Well, we won't keep you from your duties any longer, Profess—"

"Diana!"

Diana slid neatly out from under Connor's hand and turned towards the barrier. "Belinda!" she waved.

Belinda was struggling with her trunk, so Diana dashed over to help her stabilize it before the pair began to pull it together. Before they got within range of the adults' hearing she asked quietly, "Are you okay?"

Belinda dropped her side of the trunk handle and stared at Diana in shock. "I…Yes," she said. "You…why do you care?"

Diana wasn't offended: the words had been asked with such a marveled confusion it was impossible to take offense. "We're friends," she said simply. "Friends care." To take that look off Belinda's face—Diana was feeling almost physical pain at how clear it was that no one really cared about this girl—she added, "Friends also care when they're the only one carrying your heavy trunk."

Belinda gasped and grabbed at the handle again. "Sorry." By this point, they had gotten to Connor and the Professor. "Hello again, Mr. McLeod," Belinda said in her soft voice. Before anyone could make introductions, she turned to the professor. "Hello, Professor Snape. How have you been?"

Diana marveled as the look on Professor Snape's face relaxed into something that hinted at a smile. "I am quite well, Miss Black. Yourself?"

Belinda shrugged slightly. "As well as can be expected. I see you've met Mr. McLeod and Miss Adamson."

Professor Snape nodded. "I have." He looked around a moment. "Who dropped you off, Miss Black? I don't believe Lucius was planning to be here for several minutes yet."

"I've been staying with Mr. Avery for the last three months," she told him.

Professor Snape scowled. "Did that incompetent fool manage to ensure you got everything on your list, or will I be taking you out this weekend to purchase required supplies?"

Belinda shook her head. "I met Mr. McLeod and Diana yesterday. They helped me make sure I got everything I needed."

Professor Snape narrowed his eyes at the man who, despite his coloring looking quite like a Malfoy or a Lovegood, wasn't related to any of the families he knew. Nor did he recognize the name "Adamson," though she was American, so it was perhaps not surprising he didn't know her. He nodded once. "Well, since it appears you are in…semi-competent hands, I believe I see a few miscreants on the other side of the platform." He turned and stalked away, robes billowing.

"Talk about faint praise," Diana snorted.

"Actually," Belinda told her, "from him that _was_ praise." She looked up at Connor. "Evidently you impressed him somehow, sir."

Connor smiled slightly. "He noticed I'm a warrior, lass," he told her. "Just like I noticed he's a dangerous individual." He let the words hang in the air a moment. "But, enough of that. Let me get your trunk, and I'll see you two loaded onto the train, unless you have anyone you want to wait out here for, Belinda?"

The raven-haired girl shook her head. "No thank you, sir."

Several minutes later saw Diana and Belinda ensconced in the last compartment at the end of the train, to try and minimize foot traffic past them. The girls said their goodbyes to Connor (with Diana impulsively giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek) before settling in to wait for the train to start.

"Oh!" Diana exclaimed. She hopped up and stood on her seat so she could get into her trunk. "I have your book," she told Belinda, her voice muffled.

Belinda looked relieved, and smiled her thanks to Diana when the brunette handed over her book. "Thank you. I'd half expected to never see it again," she admitted.

Diana shrugged and dropped her book on the seat next to her. "I told you, we're friends," she said. "And friends hang onto things when their friends leave them places."

Belinda smiled shyly. "Thank you," she said again.

Diana couldn't help herself. She reached out with her empathy again to taste Belinda's emotions, but only let herself have a momentary taste before shutting herself down again. Even that little flash had a pleased smile spreading across her face. "You're welcome."

After a moment, the pair settled in with their books.

They read in companionable silence until a kindly old witch came by with a cart of snacks. "Anything I can get for you dearies?"

Diana looked up, then hopped off her seat. She looked at Belinda, who was looking a bit sheepish. "Come on, Bel," she coaxed. "I'm not used to British candy, and I'm willing to pay for some guidance here."

Belinda looked surprised at the diminutive, but she still hesitated.

Diana smiled mischievously. "I'll pay in can-dy," she drawled.

The witch who ran the trolley smiled at the brunette's handling of the other girl. _For all she has the confidence of a Gryffindor, there's a bit of Slytherin in that one,_ she admired.

The pair picked over the candy cart and Diana shelled out the cash to pay for it all. As they settled back into seats on Belinda's side of the compartment, the door slid open again. "_There_ you are."

Diana looked up at the arrogant voice. Coming in the doorway was a perfectly coiffed boy about their age, who had short, white blonde hair and a perfectly groomed set of school robes. Behind him, like bookends, was a pair of large boys. _Bodyguard and thug types, if I'm any judge,_ Diana thought to herself. She instantly reached out to feel for any warning of danger. Oddly enough, the arrogant little leader really was almost as confident as he appeared. That confidence had taken a recent shaking, but for the most part, he really thought he was that great. She could tell that it was a shallow confidence though, one that hadn't been truly tested. _Could've picked that up without sensing him,_ she thought dryly.

"Hello, Cousin Draco," Belinda said. "Diana, may I introduce my cousin, Draco Malfoy. Behind him are Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. Cousin Draco, this is Diana Adamson."

Diana didn't have the chance to say anything before Draco sneered as he looked her up and down. "A nobody, cousin? I knew you were sad and pathetic, but I thought even you could do better than a _Mudblood_."

Diana narrowed her eyes. "So you know everyone of any importance in the world?" she drawled.

Draco seemed startled by Diana's American accent, but he recovered quickly. "All the ones that matter," he announced arrogantly.

She stood up and stepped slightly in front of Belinda. "Well then, since I apparently don't matter, why don't you run along so you don't have to breathe the same, dirty air as me? Go on. Shoo." She made little shooing motions with her hands.

Belinda managed to suppress her laughter as Draco stared at the crazy American. "You're loony."

Diana laughed. "I'm also a Daughter of the American Revolution, so I have a plenty prestigious pedigree and _I_ don't feel the need to lord it over others. Besides, you're silly little British insults mean nothing to me. Good day, sir," she said arrogantly. Draco opened his mouth and Diana cut him off. "I said, 'Good day.'"

Draco opened and closed his mouth several times in shock before turning to his bully boys. "Let's go," he muttered. "I don't want to stay it the same room with this…_American_." He turned to Belinda. "Wherever you found this one," he advised her, "I'd consider sending her back. Father will not be pleased when he hears what you've been spending time with."

Once they were gone, Diana spun around. "You're related to _that_?"

Belinda nodded uncertainly.

"Wow, I guess even in Britain you can't pick your relatives."

The side of Belinda's mouth quirked up in a partial smile. "Thank you, Diana."

Diana blinked. "For what?"

Belinda smirked. "For drawing his attention away from me and onto yourself. It was very Slytherin of you, even if it seems to have a very Gryffindor feel to the way you carried it out."

Diana cocked her head. "Huh?"

Belinda sighed, and patted the seat beside her. Once they were both comfortable, she explained. "Everyone in Hogwarts is sorted into one of four houses. The houses are based on personality traits."

"Really? I thought the teachers just divvied up the students into four groups."

Belinda shook her head. "Slytherins are sly, cunning, and ambitious; their animal symbol is the snake. Malfoys and Blacks both tend to be Slytherins. And yes, Houses often run in families."

"Or maybe families run in Houses," Diana muttered. She looked up and saw Belinda's dark look. "Sorry. Continue."

"Ravenclaws are your book smart kids. It's not a bad second choice. They're represented by a raven. Gryffindors—the lions—are your courageous, brave, hero-types who rush in when just a moment's thought would make their lives so much easier."

"Let me guess," Diana drawled. "Gryffindors and Slytherins don't get along."

Belinda smiled wryly. "No, they don't. In fact, there's a House rivalry going back centuries about it. We call them idiots, they call us Dark Wizards-in-training."

Diana chose not to mention that Belinda was speaking as though she was already Sorted. "So what about the last House?"

"Ah yes, Hufflepuff." She ignored Diana's snort of laughter. "The badgers are the leftovers, really. Though officially they're loyal and hard-working."

Diana shook her head. "I really cannot get over these names," she muttered. "But," she continued aloud, "that explains why Sensei said he'd be pissed if I wound up a badger."

"Wants you to have some redeeming qualities?"

Diana looked sharply at Belinda. "No, actually. He thinks I'm far more loyal than I should be. The last thing he thinks I need is to spend seven years in an environment that _reinforces_ that trait. And don't knock the hard-working, loyal types. They're the ones who actually get things done. While your Gryffindors are boldly going forth and your Slytherins are plotting and your Ravenclaws are researching, the Hufflepuffs are going about the business of making sure the world keeps turning." She shook her head. "Everyone looks down on worker-bees, but they're far more important than you realize."

Belinda sat back, stunned. She'd never heard anyone _compliment_ Hufflepuffs before. And what Diana was saying made sense. "I…I never thought of it that way," she admitted.

Diana nodded. "I'm not surprised. But now that you're out on your own, you can make your own opinions. Don't just blindly accept what others tell you; make your own observations and form your own opinions. And who knows," she added with a wink, "a crafty Slytherin could certainly make use of Hufflepuff allies."

Belinda lapsed into thought and Diana let her. The rest of the train ride passed in near-silence.


	5. The Start of Term Feast

**Chapter 5**

**The Start of Term Feast**

Thanks to a warning from a prefect, Belinda and Diana knew to leave their trunks: they'd be brought up to the castle. The pair—now dressed in their Hogwarts robes—left the train. Diana started to follow the other students.

"Firs' years! Firs' years, this way!"

A gentle hand on Diana's upper arm turned her to face the humongous man that was calling for the First Years. She smiled at Belinda and followed her over to a dock just off the platform where several boats were waiting. "Four to a boat!" The duo climbed into a boat together. "Firs' Years, this way! Four to a boat! Yeh alrigh' there, Harry?"

A wave of hatred bowled into Diana and knocked down her shields. Instantly, the black hatred began to swirl with excitement-nervousness and fear-hope. Diana found herself lost until she felt a wave of concern that drowned out everything else. Blindly, Diana groped until she found the hand that was touching her arm. The skin-to-skin contact was what allowed Diana to use the concern-worry to push everything else away. Once that was done, it was a simple matter to construct some basic shields to allow herself to pay attention to the outside world.

"Are you alright?" Belinda asked. She wasn't sure what to do. Diana had just suddenly hunched over, as though she had taken a blow. "Diana?" She grabbed Diana's arm, half under her sleeve, and shook it lightly. "Diana, I can get a teacher if you need one." There was still no response. Belinda was about to get up to get the large man's attention when she felt Diana's other hand latch on top of hers. Belinda turned back to Diana. "Diana? Are you feeling better?"

Belinda saw the brunette nod her head as the boat began moving without assistance. Fortunately, no one had gotten into their boat—apparently there were an uneven number of students for the "four to a boat" rule. "What just happened?" she asked worriedly.

A hissing voice from around Belinda's neck floated up to her ears. _Is the lighting-girl alright?_

Diana inhaled a ragged breath and straightened up. "Sorry," Diana managed. "Just…someone's emotions broke down my shielding. I'll be alright now."

Belinda pulled away a bit and began playing with the ends of her hair. "Is there anything I can do?" she asked. "I mean, if it happens again?"

Diana smiled wryly. "Actually, exactly what you did was perfect."

Belinda stared at the Fulmina in confusion.

"You touched my skin," Diana elaborated. "And you were feeling strongly. Skin-to-skin contact amplifies the ability to feel," she explained. "And your concern was strong enough that, combined with the contact, it drowned everyone else out and gave me something to focus on. Then, when it was down to just one set of emotions, I was able to rebuild my walls. So thank you."

Belinda smiled shyly. "You're welcome." She looked down at the snake who was hanging out around her neck. _"Diana was overpowered by the scents of emotions, but she's okay now."_

The boomslang sent his tongue out and tickled Belinda's nose, causing her to giggle. She looked up again, and gasped.

The boat had just rounded the edge of a forest and the castle came into view. It looked as though every light had been lit inside, making it glow warm and inviting in the darkness. The towers soared over the bulk of the castle, and walkways connected some of the shorter towers. All in all, it looked like the epitome of an enchanted castle. The only sound from the boats now was the sounds of them sliding through the water: none of the children spoke. They were all too captivated by the sight of the castle that would be their home for most of the next seven years.

Finally, the boats bumped up to a dock near the entrance of the castle and the children all clambered out of the boats. The large man who had led them this far led them up the stairs to the great double doors. He knocked three times and waited, holding his lantern aloft.

After a short moment, the doors opened. Unlike the stereotype, there were no creaks or groans as the doors moved, they moved like they were well-maintained. Standing just inside the doors was a tall, old woman wearing tartan robes. Her grey hair was pulled back into a severe bun and her face was set in a no-nonsense expression.

"Pr'fessor McGonagall," their guide said, "I have the First Years."

"Thank you, Hagrid. Please, children, follow me."

The students exchanged a few looks, but all scurried after the formidable-looking woman. Once everyone was inside, she stopped near another set of double doors. "Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor House."

Diana took the professor's speech as an opportunity to get her first good look at the other students. Keeping half an ear on what the woman was saying, she looked around. Perhaps the most obvious person was Draco Malfoy, still flanked by his goons, Crabbe and Goyle. On the other side of the group, almost as though he was trying to stay away from Malfoy was a fire-headed boy. Next to him was a boy with tousled black hair and glasses that _really_ didn't look like they fit. Near them, but clearly not part of the duo was a bushy haired girl with a superior look on her face. Hovering near her the way she was hovering near the other two was a slightly pudgy boy who had an air of nervousness. He was clutching a frog tightly, as though trying to prevent its escape.

About this point, Professor McGonagall departed. The students began talking amongst themselves. Malfoy was going on about how wonderful he was and how below him everyone else was—Diana suspected, at least. Truthfully, she heard his voice and promptly started ignoring him. There were a couple others that drew her eye: another 'I'm above all of you' type, though he seemed to not be part of Malfoy's crowd and seemed to utterly ignore the blonde's existence; and a set of twin girls that appeared to be of Indian descent; the other students appeared to be your regular mix of nervous and excited, bullies-to-be and victims-to-be (not necessarily exclusive terms), the introverts and the extroverts.

Diana sighed as she let the chatter wash over her. She had a feeling that moments like this would be many—the moments where she felt every bit of the mental age difference between herself and her classmates. _Sweet Lord and Lady,_ she thought tiredly, _this is going to suck. And it's not like there are any adults who'll be in the know, either. I may go mad if I have to deal with only children for the next seven years._

Then there was a bunch of screams. Instantly, Diana pulled a dagger from inside her left sleeve, even before she had her eyes opened.

"It's okay," Belinda's quiet voice to her left said. "It's just some of the castle ghosts."

Diana did a quick scan anyway, then let herself relax from the defensive pose she'd gone into automatically. With another glance to see if anyone besides Belinda had noticed the dagger, she slid it back into the sheath on her left arm. "I guess I'm more nervous and on edge than I thought," she admitted.

Belinda smiled. "It's okay." She played with the ends of her hair again, considering. "You hold that knife like you know how to use it, she commented.

Diana nodded. "I do."

Belinda held herself motionless for a moment, except for where her fingers were playing with her hair by her right shoulder. "Would you teach me?"

Diana blinked and stared at Belinda for a moment. "Um, I'm going to have to see about getting some practice daggers, but I'll see what I can do."

Belinda gave Diana one of her small, delighted smiles as the doors opened.

The group of First Years slowly entered the Great Hall for the first time. Diana could scarcely figure out where to look first: the room was lit by floating candles; the ceiling showed the night sky, complete with the moon in all its glory; the tables where the students were sitting…though the Head Table where the teachers sat was what finally drew her attention.

Center of the table was an old wizard with a very long beard who looked a bit like Gandalf…_Ian McKellen did a better representation,_ Diana thought to herself. Professor Snape was down towards one end, next to a nervous-looking man in a purple turban. _If I were that close to Professor Snape right now, I'd be nervous too. I wonder if he did anything to piss him off?_ There was a pleasant-looking, overweight witch beside a rather short wizard. The large man from earlier was there at the far end, next to a woman whose overly-large glasses made her look like nothing so much as a bug.

It was a strange voice beginning to sing that pulled Diana out of her musings. She stared, slack-jawed at the hat, which had separated at the brim to grow itself a mouth, as it sang about Hogwarts and the four Houses. A nudge from Belinda brought Diana back to herself and she blushed as she smiled an apology at Belinda.

Professor McGonagall spoke from beside the stool the hat was on. "When I call your name, come up here, sit on the stool, and put on the Sorting Hat. Abbott, Hannah!"

_Great, alphabetical order,_ Diana thought. _Pretty sure I'm next, then._ She squeezed Belinda's hand as the Hat was dropped onto 'Abbott, Hannah's' head. After a moment, the hat declared, "Hufflepuff!"

"Adamson, Diana!"

Diana whispered, "See you on the other side. At breakfast, if nothing else," to Belinda before heading up the stairs. She looked suspiciously at the Hat for a moment before reinforcing her shields and sitting down. The Hat was dropped onto her head.

Instantly, Diana tilted the Hat back so that it wasn't hanging in her eyes, blocking her vision of the Great Hall. _Well, well, well. Welcome to Hogwarts, Immortal._

Diana's eyes widened. "What the…?"

_Oh, don't worry, no one can hear you right now. That particular memory storage pattern is a dead giveaway that you're an Immortal, and the feel of those thoughts behind your mental shields is indicative of an adult trapped in a child's body. Unfortunately, I need you to drop your shields before I can do my job._

"Not a chance," Diana muttered. "I already had one nasty overwhelming tonight: I don't need another one."

_Nonsense, little girl,_ the Hat sneered. Diana raged at the term 'little girl' from something that knew she was anything but. _I can protect you just fine, so long as you rebuild your shields before removing me._

"Will you tell anyone what you see?"

_No specifics. If the Headmaster asks, I generally tell him about character traits and why someone wound up in a certain house or if and why they were considered for other Houses than the one they wound up in. Fair warning: as a member of the Order of the Fulmina, he'll probably ask about you._

Diana breathed deeply, slowly, then deconstructed her shields. "If he wants specifics, send him my way."

Diana felt the Hat rummaging through her history, but found that the feeling didn't distract from the wonderful sensation of having her shields all the way down…and not feeling a thing.

_Oh my, you're a definite match for Hufflepuff…._

"Not Hufflepuff! Sensei will _kill_ me! Multiple times. All of them painful!"

_I can see that,_ the Hat mentioned, amused. _As far as Gryffindor goes, you're brave, but only when you have to be. You'd much rather give in publicly and fight behind the scenes later. You've certainly enough to smarts to be Ravenclaw, and had I caught you at the age you appear, I do believe that's where you would be. But with the last several years, and the way you tend to find someone powerful to hide behind, I do believe it'll be…_ "Slytherin!"

Diana slammed up her shields as she realized that last word had been spoken aloud. She made herself stand up as she finished reconstructing her shielding for the second time that evening. She took the Hat off to the applause of the table beneath the green banner of a snake, and turned to Professor Snape. She inclined her head respectfully, then went to go sit at the Slytherin table.

"Black, Belinda!"

Belinda held her head high and gracefully ascended the steps. She sat on the stool and waited for the Hat to be dropped on her head.

_Well, well, well, what have we here? An heir of a founder! Greetings, Salazar's Daughter._

Belinda nodded once. "Greeting, Sorting Hat. Why don't we go ahead and get this over with, we both know where you're going to put me, so let's get on with it."

_Ah, bright snake, you'll be going where you think, though not for the reasons you believe. Your father and mother have nothing to do with why I'm putting you in…_ "Slytherin!" _…and you should keep that almost-Hufflepuff close. She'll do you far more good than you'll do her harm._

The Hat was pulled off Belinda's head and she found herself blinking at the students of the Great Hall. She stood, still considering the Hat's words. It was with a distracted air that she joined Diana at the Slytherin table. "Hey, Roomie, why the long face? I thought you already considered yourself a Snake?"

Belinda shook herself and smiled at Diana. "I am happy to be here. Really," she said. "Just thinking about something the Hat told me." She gazed consideringly at Diana.

"Oh great, what did it say?"

Belinda opened her mouth, then looked around. "I'll tell you later."

Diana smiled wryly. "Understood."

The Sorting continued without any real surprises—though neither girl thought the Hat even touched Malfoy's head before it Sorted him, "Didn't want Malfoy-cooties," Diana told Belinda, sotto voce; Belinda was still giggling when the blonde boy sat down—until Professor McGonagall called out, "Potter, Harry!"

The room, which had been mostly quiet, broke out into whispers. This time, Diana was a bit more prepared for the wave of hatred she felt…though this time it seemed like it was coming from two different directions. The familiar wave was from beside her, _Belinda?_ Diana wondered. The other prong of hatred was touched with the pain of old wounds and by the depth and breadth of the feeling, Diana knew it couldn't be a student. She looked up at the Head Table and found Professor Snape staring at the boy she'd seen with the red head earlier. The sheer loathing on the professor's face was enough that, had it been directed at her, Diana would have strongly considered withdrawing from school and finding another school to attend. _Who _is_ this kid?_ Diana wondered. The name rang a bell, but it wasn't until she overheard a whisper of "Boy-Who-Lived" that she remembered the name from her "recent Wizarding history" book. The kid had been credited with taking down the Wizarding World's big bad guy, something like ten years ago. Diana wasn't sure how an infant was supposed to have killed a Dark Lord, but it was probably something to do with magic.

The Hat deliberated for several moments, while Diana tried to read Potter's lips. He seemed to be saying the same thing over and over. No…not. Definitely "not." …Slytherin! Not Slytherin! _Huh. Wonder why the kid is so dead set against Slytherin House?_ she mused. However, with what Belinda had told her about House rivalries, it was no surprise to Diana when the Hat broke out with, "Gryffindor!"

The room—except for Slytherin House—broke out into cheering and thunderous applause. Diana could see a pair of red headed twins—_Brothers of the one yet to be Sorted?_—that were dancing and cheering, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" It was several moments before the room calmed enough for Professor McGonagall to be heard well enough to call, "Thomas, Dean!"

Diana could certainly understand why Slytherin House was upset that they hadn't gotten the "Hero of the Wizarding World," but she couldn't understand the ugly undercurrent that seemed to flow through several of the people around her.

She shook her head and made a mental note to speak with Belinda about it later, when they talked about whatever the Hat had told her.

It was only a short while when the final new student was sorted into Slytherin, and the Headmaster stood to give his "few words" before dinner. Diana was quite pleased when they actually _were_ only a few words, but found herself utterly perplexed as to what "Nitwit. Oddment. Blubber. Tweak," was supposed to mean.

On the other hand, food appeared in front of her right after that, and Diana hadn't spent holidays growing up with two grandparents, eleven aunts and uncles, Mom, Dad, a sister, and twelve cousins without knowing how to ensure she got fed at the feeding trough. She could even fight off three cousins whilst simultaneously showing perfect manners, thanks to her etiquette-instilling mother. It was a trait that came in handy, particularly when she decided to brave the demilitarized zone around Crabbe and Goyle to snag the chicken.

Once her plate was full, Diana settled back and turned to where Belinda was watching everyone cautiously. A quick glance showed Diana that there was nothing on Belinda's plate. "Belinda?" she asked. "Aren't you hungry?"

Belinda blinked at Diana a couple times. "Um, a bit," she admitted. "I just didn't want to take anything anyone else might want."

Diana shook her head ruefully. "Hun, if you wait for others to be finished, all the food will be gone before you get the chance to eat anything." At Belinda's doubtful look, Diana motioned for her to look at the table. Sure enough, most of the food was gone—a great deal of it in the direction of Crabbe and Goyle's DMZ. Diana proceeded to politely intercept plates as they were passed, and she grabbed for a couple of trays that should have been out of her reach. Belinda stared in awe as she eventually got a plate of bangers and mash, a helping of French-cut green beans, and some carrots in a sweet honey sauce. Her goblet was full of pumpkin juice, and two rolls—one white, one brown—had appeared on the edge of her plate. "There. Hope you like…sausage and mashed potatoes?" Diana shrugged. "Well, if you don't, let me know, I'll see what else I can get you. I'll begin your training in the art of food interception at the kids' table of large gatherings tomorrow morning." So saying, she dug in.

Belinda slowly began to eat. She wasn't sure what to think of the girl beside her. Truthfully, she regularly seemed baffled by the girl. She chattered, she put herself forward, she was supremely confident, she'd protected Belinda from several perceived dangers…and yet she'd been Sorted into Slytherin. Several thoughts occupied Belinda's mind as she slowly ate, mindful that Draco would be watching for any hint of anything he could send home to his father about her. A Slytherin…who didn't act like a typical Slytherin. A deeply loyal Slytherin, if the discussion Belinda had with Diana on the train and with the Hat were at all accurate. Cassandra's words in _The Magical Menagerie_ echoed in Belinda's mind for a moment: "Diana is the best option for you to be allowed to find your own path in life."

All these thoughts, as well as the uncertainty of Belinda's short life of never knowing who she would be put with next, coalesced into a half-formed idea. _If I can win Diana's loyalty…._ The problem was, where to go from there? Belinda had never really had many goals. Two meals a day and someone who wouldn't harm her was the most she generally hoped for. Beyond that, she hoped for a good book to read. There was a faint desire to have her parents back, but she wouldn't even know where to begin on that one. _So,_ Belinda decided as the main course disappeared and dessert appeared in its place, _it looks like I'll have to start showing some of the ambition Slytherin House is famous for. But what to do…?_

Belinda found the taste of the treacle tart she'd been handed by Diana—who apparently thought she couldn't get food for herself at all by this point—to draw her out of her thoughts. "This is really good," she told her friend. "Thank you."

Diana grinned, keeping her teeth hidden. She chewed a couple times before swallowing. "You're welcome. I wasn't sure what kind of desserts you liked, so I just kinda grabbed one that looked like it was going fast."

Belinda giggled before consuming the last bite. She found all the food was sitting heavily in her stomach, and she wanted nothing quite so much as to curl up and go to sleep.

Diana wasn't immune to the soporific effect of so much food either. She exchanged a contented, sleepy smile with Belinda as the desserts disappeared and Headmaster Dumbledore stood up. A soft groan and a, "What does that crazy old man want now?" slipped out before she could censor it.

Apparently it was just a little louder than it maybe should have been, as several students around her laughed quietly. Fortunately, none of the higher level students had heard her, and apparently the teachers' table hadn't heard her either.

"Before you all head to your dormitories, I have a few announcements for the start of term. As a reminder to older students, and as notice to our First Years and a reminder to some of our Upper Years, the Forbidden Forest is forbidden."

Diana thought about rolling her eyes, but decided she was too somnolent to do so.

"Also, magic is forbidden in the corridors. And finally, the third floor corridor is off-limits to anyone who does not wish to die an extremely painful death."

A rush of adrenaline had Diana sitting upright as she stared at the old man in the loud robes. A few students had laughed, but apparently most of them were taking the Headmaster at his word. She exchanged a look with Belinda. Whereas Diana was alarmed, Belinda looked a combination of worried and curious.

"And now," Dumbledore continued as though he hadn't said anything really extraordinary, "let us sing the Hogwarts' School Song!" He waved his hand and a series of lyrics hung in the air. Diana could see that the teachers all had fixed, sickly smiles. "Pick your favorite tune, and sing along!"

A great cacophony erupted from all the students. Diana's eyes crossed and a shudder ran through her. To her dismay, most of the Slytherin table was participating in this felony against music. A quick glance at Belinda assured her that, while the soft-spoken girl was mouthing the words, no sound appeared to be coming out. _Or maybe she's just too quiet to hear,_ Diana admitted to herself. She finally rested her gaze on Professor Snape, who seemed to have taken the posture of someone who was forced to endure torture and refused to break, even if it cost his life. Come to that, most of the teachers were holding themselves the same way.

As the two boisterous red heads from Gryffindor finished last with their funeral dirge tune, Headmaster Dumbledore wiped away a tear. "Ah, music. A far greater magic than anything we do here."

"He's got _that_ right," Diana muttered. Several suppressed laughs answered her from her table mates.

"Now, students, off to your dormitories. First Years, follow your prefects."

Diana and Belinda moved with everyone else when they stood. The other Houses were moving willy-nilly out of the Hall, but Slytherin House moved into two orderly lines and began moving in quite the orderly fashion. The First Years joined their House at the end of the line, but were held back by two prefects—a male and a female.

The male spoke up. "I'm Prefect Timothy Selwyn, and this is Prefect Sarah Blishwick. Follow us, and do try your best to remember the way to the Slytherin Dungeons." He turned and led the way out of the Hall, while Prefect Blishwick motioned for the Firsties to go, then she brought up the rear.


	6. Welcome to Slytherin

A/N: Sorry there was no note last time. I was so excited that I'd gotten my first reviews that I just kinda threw the chapter up as a thank you! Warnings edited for my semi-positive Snape.

**Chapter 6**

**Welcome to Slytherin**

The trail they traced went down some stairs into what looked—and felt—like the dungeons of the castle. They stopped at a blank wall. Prefect Selwyn turned to them. "You don't tell anyone where the Slytherin Dungeon is," he told them flatly. "No non-Slytherin has entered these dormitories for centuries. And Salazar help the fool who breaks that streak because no one else will." He let that threat hang in the air for a moment. "The password right now is _bezoar_." The wall slid to the side, revealing the common room behind him. He entered, knowing the little Firsties would follow. Once they were all inside, he pointed at the noticeboard. "The password changes periodically and is posted there. It's for the best if you check the noticeboard daily, if not twice a day."

Diana looked around the room, feeling like she could certainly grow to love it here. The room was predominantly green with silver trim, though the décor was dark enough to suit her own darker side. There were large windows that showed they were underwater—most likely under the lake—and Diana could make out some shadows moving in the distance.

Belinda, meanwhile, had fallen in love. The room was quite grand and, while the feeling of the room was a little cold, Belinda understood what the decorator had been going for. She could feel the comfort implicit in the knowledge that there would be no false comfort here, no heartlessness hidden behind a warm, comforting façade.

All of the First Years jumped a bit when a dark, silky voice intoned, "Welcome to Slytherin House."

They all spun and saw their Head of House standing in the shadows near the fireplace. He stepped out and motioned to the floor in front of him. "Sit." They all scrambled for a seat.

Diana released her dagger as she sat. _I really need to break that habit while I'm here,_ she thought ruefully. _Someone may get hurt. And I'll never forgive myself if I harm a child._

The Professor's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. "My name is Professor Severus Snape. I am the Potions Master here, as well as your Head of House. I have several rules that are imposed upon my Snakes that don't apply to the rest of the school. Whining, whether to each other, the Headmaster, or your parents, will not change them.

"One: Outside these rooms, Slytherins are a House united. In here you may fight and argue with each other, but the moment you step out that door you _will_ help each other, you _will_ defend each other. The rest of the school is already out to get us, we will not give them a chance to divide us. We are stronger together than apart.

"Two: bedtime for first years is ten o'clock on weeknights, eleven o'clock on Friday and Saturday. If your homework has not been done, you should have done it earlier. If you think you might have a _good_ reason—and homework is not a good reason—you may ask a prefect for an extension. They will ask me and I will approve or, more likely, deny it. If you have Astronomy, you'll be expected to be in bed one hour after class is over.

"Three: you are to keep your living area tidy. That includes any mess you make in the Common Room, but especially means in your dorms. Slytherin has rooms that fit two students to a room; the restroom is shared amongst those on a floor together. You are responsible for your bedrooms, though the restrooms will be taken care of. However, I will hear if you leave an extraordinary mess and you will be punished appropriately.

"Four: you may have heard from other students that I never take points from my own House. That is correct."

All the Firsties eyes widened at that. Then over half of them got suspicious.

Professor Snape approved of the half that were clearly thinking. "I see no reason to jeopardize my own House's hopes for the House Cup. We've won it six years running: I would like to keep that winning streak. You may have heard I never punish my own House. That is incorrect. Punishments include lines, essays, ingredients preparation, cauldron scrubbing, and any other odious chore I can come up with. You will not serve detentions I assign with students of other Houses, but you _will_ serve them.

"Five: I want you to look at the six upper year students still here." The Firsties all turned and focused on the six students who were standing behind them. "These are your prefects. If you have any problems, I want you to start with your year mates. If they can't help you, look to your prefects. If they can't help you, and _only_ if they can't help you, you may come to my office, which is through that hall." He pointed down a corridor that was almost invisible because of its placement in the shadows of the room. "If you come to me, you'd best be prepared with the name of the prefect you spoke with and believe me when I say I _will_ check." He smirked a bit at the shiver that ran through the students.

"Six: This is not just your House, it's your family. There may be members you don't like, there may be members you don't get along with. Out there, that doesn't matter. _Slytherins are a House united_. Understood?"

"Yes, Professor Snape," the children chorused.

"Good. Any questions?" There was silence for several moments, then Belinda slowly raised her hand. "Yes, Miss Black?"

Belinda stood and took the letter she'd been given by Cassandra out of a pocket in her robes. "I was told to give this to my Head of House, Professor Snape." She handed it over to him. "I was told you would ensure the Headmaster gets it."

Professor Snape looked at the handwriting on the envelope. He didn't recognize it, but it was addressed to:

_ Belinda Black's Head of House_

_ And_

_ Headmaster Albus Percival Brian Wulfric Dumbledore_

He spoke, his eyes still trained on the envelope. "Very well. Once I am done here, I want you to come with me to my office. You may be seated." He looked at the other students. "Any other questions?" No one said anything. "Very well. One final announcement." He watched the students carefully at this one. "Over the course of the next week, you will all be having medical exams." He held his hand up at the protests that began. "Every Slytherin student has a yearly exam upon their return from the summer holidays. Again, you may protest all you like: it won't change anything." Snape was unsurprised to see that most of the students seemed annoyed, but he was more interested in the ones who looked worried or frightened. Surprisingly, given what he knew of her history, Belinda only look resigned. Mr. Nott looked a bit worried…Snape wasn't surprised there. What did surprise him was the look of uncertainty on Miss Adamson's face. "You will receive your scheduled appointment with Madame Pomfrey with your class schedules in the morning. Prefects Blishwick and Selwyn will sort out your rooms. Miss Black, Miss Adamson, with me."

Everyone stared at Diana as she stood up and followed Professor Snape meekly out of the common room. She wasn't sure why she was being singled out: unless Professor Snape wanted to speak with her about her running into him this morning. Once he had the two girls in his office, he motioned for them to sit in the chairs in front of his desk. As he sat, he turned to Belinda. "Does this letter have anything to do with the snake that keeps peeking out from your neckline?" he asked.

Belinda swallowed at the dark, ominous tone of the Potions Master's voice. "Yes sir."

"Who is the letter from?"

"I'm not sure you'll believe me, sir."

"Try me."

"A witch named Cassandra. She said she was the Witch of Donan Woods."

The professor snorted. "And you believed her?"

Diana cut in. "She really is the Witch of Donan Woods, Professor."

He turned to the brunette. "And how do you know that?"

Diana opened her mouth, but froze when she felt something brush lightly against her shields. She was staring into Snape's nearly-black eyes at the time, and so saw them widen ever so slightly in surprise at the repulsion of his intrusion. Diana managed to keep the amusement off her face, though she knew it still showed in her eyes. In return, she threw out a tendril of her gift and probed Professor Snape's emotions. There was a momentary fumble before a mask went over Snape's face and a wall came down in his mind, preventing further access. "My mentor and she are old…acquaintances," she said finally, not verbally acknowledging the mental exchange.

Belinda looked back and forth between the two, certain she'd missed something.

Professor Snape finally looked down at the envelope and opened it. He pulled out a slip of parchment and read for several moments. "Very well," he said. "I'll bring this and you, Miss Black, to the Headmaster. He will make the final decision about whether or not you can keep your familiar. A boomslang, is it not?"

Belinda nodded. "He's young, yet. But he's very gentle…ah, with me, anyway," she admitted, playing with the ends of her hair.

He nodded once. "Miss Adamson, I called you here because Headmaster Dumbledore wishes to speak with you."

Diana sighed. "I'm guessing about me being a member of the Order of the Fulmina?" she inquired.

Snape inclined his head. "Just so."

"Alright. Not like I have a whole lot of choice," she muttered.


	7. The Headmaster's Office

A/N: Here's the next chapter. I should be able to maintain this posting pace up to chapter 18, 'cause that's what I have written. Unfortunately at that point I hit a combination of burn-out and writer's block (have I mentioned this was a NaNoWriMo?) so I don't have anything after that. Part of the reason for posting is to see if I can't feel any pressure to push past the issue I'm having with the chapter. I know what the problem is, I just need to sit down and force myself to write through it. Also, I'm playing with the horizontal lines to make my formatting look right.

And because I don't think I've said it before: I don't own Harry Potter or Highlander. I do own Diana and Belinda in the same sense that I own my cats: the girls deign to allow me to tell their story where as my cats deign to allow me to cater to their every whim.

* * *

**Chapter 7**

**The Headmaster's Office**

The walk to the headmaster's office was only moderately long. The difficult part was keeping up with Professor Snape's ground-eating stride. Eventually, though, the trio found themselves standing near a gargoyle statue. Professor Snape scowled at the statue before muttering, "Chocolate frog."

Before Belinda or Diana could giggle at his behavior, the gargoyle leapt out of the way, revealing a spiral staircase that led up. Once on the stairs, they began rotating rather like an escalator would if it were capable of rotating like this. At the top of the stairs was a door, which Professor Snape knocked twice on.

"Ah, come in, Severus," the voice of the headmaster drifted out to them.

The girls followed Professor Snape into the Headmaster's office. Diana wasn't sure where in the large, circular room to look first: at the myriad moving portraits, the knickknacks on the various shelves, or the books on various shelves. Belinda, on the other hand, knew exactly where to look first: at the Headmaster. Diana kept looking around in curiosity even as she moved to the chair she'd been motioned to.

"Would either of you ladies like a lemon drop?" the headmaster asked, holding out a dish of yellow candy. They both accepted a sweet, though neither actually put it in their mouth. "So, Belinda, what brings you here this evening?"

Professor Snape stepped forward and held out the envelope and parchment. "Miss Black has a boomslang familiar that she would like to keep. When asked about it, she produced this letter."

Headmaster Dumbledore took the letter and read it over carefully. Once he was finished, he looked up, blue eyes twinkling. "Interesting. So tell me, how is Cassandra these days?"

Belinda blinked several times as she began playing with the ends of her hair. "Um, she seemed well, Headmaster. I didn't really get the chance to speak with her extensively." She looked to Diana, pleading in her eyes.

Diana scowled, though made sure she wasn't directing the scowl at Belinda. "Cassandra's doing just fine, sir. Having visions, being cryptic, still obsessing over old grudges…you know, same old, same old."

Dumbledore turned to Diana, eyebrows raised in mild surprise. "You know Cassandra, Diana?"

Diana snorted. "Better than I'd like. She and Sensei don't get along. So she hates me for liking Sensei." She paused. "Though, to be fair, she really just thinks I'm a blind idiot. I think."

Dumbledore looked like he really didn't know how to respond to that. "Well, Belinda, I don't see any reason why you can't keep your familiar, so long as you agree to a couple simple precautions."

"What sort of precautions?" Belinda asked suspiciously.

"Just a spell so that he can't bite anyone," Dumbledore told her. "To protect the other students."

Belinda frowned. "But how is he supposed to hunt, then?" she asked. "Can't you make it selective so that he can't bite something unless he means to?" She looked down at the snake, careful to keep herself speaking English. "You'd agree not to bite anyone unless they were trying to hurt me or you, right, Sal?"

"Sal" very clearly nodded his head yes.

The Headmaster's eyes twinkled madly. "Well, well, well," he mused. "You do have a very intelligent member of the species there. Very well. If I may?"

Belinda hesitated, then looked at Professor Snape pleadingly.

"May I, Headmaster?" he queried.

Dumbledore nodded once, the twinkle in his eyes fading. "Of course, Severus."

One complicated spell later, Belinda was dismissed. She hesitated, looking at Diana. "Don't worry, Belinda," Diana reassured her. "I'll be alright." She looked up at Professor Snape. "Sir, would you be able to see her back to the dungeons? I don't know how well either of us remembers the route back."

Snape studied Diana for several silent moments. "I will return shortly," he informed her. He shot an unreadable—for the girls, anyway—look to Dumbledore, then escorted Belinda out the door.

"Well, Diana, it's been a long time since Hogwarts was graced with a Fulmina student. Nearly forty years, if memory serves. Tell me, if you know, why your mentor would send you here, instead of sending you to Salem? We're always honored to have a member of the Order of the Fulmina, but I would have thought you'd be more comfortable at an American school."

Diana smiled wryly. "Possibly, sir, but that's part of why Sensei wanted me to attend school overseas." She felt a pressure on her mind again, and frowned slightly as she reinforced her shielding. "Sensei has business in Paris for the next few years and wants me close, but he doesn't trust my French enough to allow me to attend Beauxbatons Academy of Magic." She blushed slightly. "I can get by, barely. Frankly, I know just enough French to get myself into trouble. For some reason it just doesn't want to stay in my head."

"Well, languages aren't everyone's gift," Dumbledore assured her. "You know, I'm sure, that all recognized students that are Fulmina are considered adults, correct?"

Diana nodded. "Yes sir." The pressure in her head had increased a bit, so she started pushing back on it.

"Still, that doesn't mean that the teachers can't help you. Why, just last week I asked help from Severus to help me find my lucky hat that I'd misplaced."

Diana blinked a couple times. "Your…lucky hat?" she inquired.

"Of course. Oh, it's not as important as my lucky socks, but I was most put out that I couldn't find my lucky hat. Fortunately, Professor Snape found it in the Infirmary."

Diana stared at Professor Dumbledore, confused as to what her reaction should be. All the same, as the pressure on her mind increased, she pushed back harder. It was getting harder to pay attention to the headmaster's rambling story—which had continued—but there was a little part of her that wondered if the point of the story wasn't to distract her. It was only a little part though, because the overwhelming majority of her concentration was taken up with fighting off the Headmaster's mental intrusion.

However, her concentration was shattered when she felt a Buzz. It wasn't exactly like a typical Buzz, though. Normally, Diana felt the Buzz as the sensation of standing in a strong electrical field; the sort of sensation that results in all your hair standing on end. This one, however, fluctuated in almost a musical trill. Diana's gaze darted around the room, as she heard a beautiful trill that matched what she was feeling through the Buzz. Fortunately, the trill distracted the Headmaster as well, so he wasn't able to quite break all the way through her shields—though she was pretty sure he felt her sudden thrill of fear and confusion. Diana turned towards the sound and saw a gorgeous scarlet and gold bird perched on the chair beside her. Once it saw that it had her attention, it flew over to the back of her chair and, once again making sure it had her attention, began to sing.

Diana wasn't sure what kind of a bird it was, but its song was one of welcome. Diana let her eyes close as she listened—as was the best way to let the music take you away—and found her Quickening singing along with the beautiful song. She didn't know how, and she was pretty sure that it wasn't audible to any but an Immortal (and maybe only her, at that), but she could feel the avian's song become a duet of greeting.

The music ended, but Diana waited until the last resonance had faded from the room before opening her eyes. Dumbledore was gazing at her with a look of interest. "My, my. Fawkes hasn't shown that much interest in anyone in a long time," he said quietly. "His song was lovely, don't you think, Severus?"

Diana half-turned to see her Head of House standing in the doorway looking almost subdued. "Quite. I'm surprised the phoenix has taken such a liking to you: he's usually far more aloof than that."

Diana blushed, and turned so that she was focused on the…. "Did you say _phoenix_!?" she exclaimed.

Dumbledore chuckled while Snape raised an eyebrow at her. "Yes, my dear," Dumbledore confirmed. "Fawkes consented to be my companion many years ago."

Diana stared at the phoenix and saw amusement deep in its black eyes. She was stunned that she could apparently sense the phoenix's immortality, and that there was a resonance between the Immortal Buzz and a phoenix's presence. Unfortunately, she had no way of asking a mortal if a phoenix had a presence that could be sensed by a mortal. Ever so gently, she raised a hand up and gently stroked the phoenix's plumage. He was warm, almost hot to the touch. "It's a pleasure and an honor to meet you, Fawkes," Diana said softly.

After several moments, it became clear that Diana was lost in petting and scratching the phoenix, while Fawkes appeared to luxuriate in the touch. Professor Snape turned to Dumbledore. "Headmaster, if you are done with Miss Adamson, it is getting late and she has yet to get situated in her dorm."

The headmaster nodded once. "Diana." He waited until the young Fulmina had managed to tear her gaze away from the phoenix. "I want you to know that if you have any questions or concerns, you can feel free to come speak with myself, or any of the professors here. We don't want you to feel like you can't reach out, just because you hold a special status in the Wizarding World. And I know that it can be overwhelming, attending a school in a different country, away from everything that's familiar."

Diana kept her face blank as she looked at the headmaster. _Really? He wants me to trust him after what he just tried to pull?_ There was no animosity to her thoughts, the phoenix's song seemed to have relaxed her beyond the ability to feel even annoyance, but she still wasn't going to trust Professor Dumbledore. Ever. Finally, though, she simply said, "Yes sir," and turned to Professor Snape.

"Good evening, Headmaster," Snape intoned, before leading Diana out of the office.

They were away from the office and on the ground floor when Diana spoke up. "Professor Snape?"

"Yes, Miss Adamson?"

"What did you try to do in your office?"

The professor's gliding stride hitched a moment before he whirled around to face her. He cast a silent spell before speaking to her. "You don't know?" he inquired. "And you may speak freely. No one will overhear us."

Diana frowned slightly. "I know you tried to access my mind, but I don't know if you were trying to read thoughts or emotions, or do something else entirely."

Professor Snape scowled. "It is a discipline called Legilimency. Legilimency is not _mind reading_," he sneered. "And how do you know Occlumency if you don't know what Legilimency is?"

Diana blinked at him several times in confusion. "Occlu…I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch the full word."

"Occlumency." Snape frowned in mild confusion himself. "It is the magical defense of the mind against external penetration. It's what you used to keep me out of your mind."

Diana shook her head. "No sir, that's not what I used." She hesitated. "At least, I don't _think_ my shielding is magical in nature."

Snape frowned for several moments. "It is nearly curfew. I will contact you tomorrow with a day and time where we can continue this conversation." He cancelled the privacy spell he had cast and began walking again. "I realize the Fulmina hold a certain…status in the Wizarding World," he said. "I still expect you to obey all the rules set down by both the school and myself. There will be no special privileges that you do not earn the hard way. Is that understood?"

Diana kept the irritation off her face and out of her voice. "Yes sir." She was getting mightily sick and tired of everyone talking about some sort of "special status" that she was supposed to have. Diana decided she would check her personal library for references to the Order of the Fulmina tomorrow night, and if that didn't yield any pertinent information she would check the library over the weekend.

* * *

Diana entered the common room, while Professor Snape continued on—presumably to his office or his own quarters. Once inside the Snake Pit, she looked around again and smiled at the serenity of the room. Unfortunately, shortly after that she realized she had no idea where to go. So, with a put-upon sigh, she took a seat on one of the couches where she could watch the water.

"Diana?" The young Immortal turned towards the sound of her name. "There you are." Belinda came and stood near the couch. "I was beginning to wonder if you were ever coming back," she said lightly.

Diana smiled at Belinda, seeing the very real fear in the other girl's coppery eyes. "I just wasn't sure how to get to the rooms," she admitted. "I was hoping a prefect would come by, but no luck."

"Well, you're in with me," Belinda told her. "Come on." Diana stood, wondering when Belinda would get up the nerve to grab her arm and drag her, the way she'd already dragged Belinda a few times. "Unfortunately," Belinda narrated as they went down a hall and then down some other stairs, "since we had to talk to the Headmaster, we got stuck with the leftover room." Belinda led Diana down another hall, then around a corner. "I think it's the smallest room, but…" She opened a door at the end of that last hallway. "…it has its compensations."

Diana stared in awe as she surveyed the room. Three of the walls were that same stone as the rest of the dungeons, but the far wall looked like it was made of glass and showed a magnificent view of an underwater forest in the lake. Both of the far corners had a four-poster, canopy double bed with hunter green hangings. The beds were oriented so that the feet of them were pointed towards one another, which would allow for private time while staring out into the lake. Each bed had a small table beside it. The floor was stone, but covered with throw rugs of varying shades of green. On opposite sides of the door were a pair of desks. It wouldn't take more than a few steps to cross to any point of the room from any other point in the room, but Belinda was right: that view compensated for quite a bit.

Diana turned to Belinda and smiled. "Do you have a preference on which bed you get?"

Belinda shrugged. "Not really. I just figured I'd take the one my trunk is at." She hesitated. "Unless you'd rather have that one?"

Diana looked at the bed directly across from the door, the one with her trunk at its foot. "No, actually," she said. "I think I'll be perfectly happy with this one. Thank you, though." A yawn abruptly came out her mouth, surprising her a bit and setting off Belinda into a yawn. "And I think that's enough for tonight," she muttered. "Talk to you in the morning?"

"Okay," Belinda agreed.

The girls dug through their trunks for sleepwear, made a quick trip to the restroom, then curled up in their beds and let the gentle feeling of the waves lull them to sleep.


	8. First Day of Classes

A/N: Classes begin (in the story, anyway). I tried to keep to the regular Hogwarts schedule (keeping in mind the different house). On the plus side, I'm figure out the line breaks bit! Fair warning: there's a minor cross-over being added in. If you can't identify it, let me know. And don't be surprised if I throw in the occasional minor little thing. I'll try to pay attention to them and post in the chapter after it which fandom the randomness came from.

Hope you all enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 8**

**First Day of Classes**

The next morning…well, it didn't dawn for those in the Slytherin Dorms: it was still far too early for the sunlight to have penetrated the lake that far. However, in one particular room in the First Years' Corridor, a ringing alarm announced that it was seven am…at least, until a hand snaked out from behind the nearby hanging curtains and slapped the top of it. Diana groaned as she sat up and tried to pry her eyes open. _The worst part about being young again is all the damn sleep I need,_ she thought to herself.

"What in Merlin's name was that noise!?"

Diana stuck her head out of her curtains. "Huh?"

Belinda had her bed curtains flung open, and she was looking at Diana in shock. "That noise? From that thing that you hit."

Diana blinked a couple times before she opened her curtains and sat facing Belinda. "That's my alarm clock. I found one that worked by winding it every night so that I wouldn't need batteries. 'Cause everyone said technology is fritzy here."

Belinda gave Diana a look of utter confusion. "Fritzy?" she repeated.

"Wonky? Buggy?" Belinda looked no clearer. Diana sighed. "Technology doesn't work right," she rephrased.

"Ah." She looked at the clock curiously. "So that's a Muggle clock?"

Diana nodded. "Yeah. Was _real_ glad I picked it up when I saw we didn't have clocks in the rooms. How are we expected to get up on time for classes?"

Belinda shrugged. "I think we're supposed to make sure we get to bed early enough to make sure we wake up on our own."

Diana shook her head in amazement. "I've _never_ trusted myself without an alarm clock. Not unless I had nowhere to be." She hopped out of bed and went to her trunk to grab her clothes for the day. "Is seven too early for you? Or too late? I'm willing to be flexible, but if it's too early, I'm taking the clock into the curtains and hoping that muffles it enough for you: I need that hour before breakfast."

Belinda shrugged. "I've been up for about half an hour, but seven is good. Just in case I sleep through."

Diana grinned. "Excellent." She straightened up. "Well, wish me luck. I'm off to brave the showers."

Belinda hopped off her bed. "Let me come with," she said. She grabbed a couple items from her trunk and took the few steps it took her to get to the door. "Ready when you are."

* * *

Thirty minutes later the pair was in the Common Room. They'd been instructed by a prefect when they'd shown up ten minutes before that they had to wait for the rest of the First Years today, so that they could be escorted to the Great Hall—just to make sure the Ickle Firsties knew where it was. The girls had unhappily settled in with a book each. Of course, it was now about ten minutes until eight and—while Daphne Greengrass, Theodore Nott, Milicent Bulstrode, and Blaise Zabini had shown up—the First Years were still missing Goyle, Crabbe, Malfoy, and Pansy Parkinson. At five minutes till, Draco and his two goons finally showed up…while Parkinson waited until the very last moment and showed at precisely eight.

"Miss Parkinson, so good of you to join us," Prefect Addams drawled. The tall, pale, black haired Sixth Year did not seem amused. "If you would all follow me."

The First Years all trooped out of the Common Room like good little Snakes, though there was some jockeying for position when Malfoy decided he wanted to be at the head of the line, and Parkinson decided she just _had_ to stand near him.

Diana brought up the rear of the line, just behind Belinda, and just watched in amusement. There was a part of her that really just wanted to ignore all the silly little social positioning. It was so childish, the way Malfoy so obviously fought to be the one on top, while Parkinson wanted to be near his "center of power", Crabbe and Goyle were secure in their place as enforcers of the "social head". The other students seemed to have their own pecking order as the "lower ranking" members: Zabini and Greengrass—while not part of Malfoy's little coterie—had their own amount of social status, certainly higher than Nott and Bulstrode. Bulstrode was clearly the lowest ranking…with the notable exception of Belinda, who seemed quite aware of certain social undercurrents that Diana could barely sense. Belinda, while quite aware of them, appeared to have given up trying to have _any_ position and had accepted the lowest rung on the totem pole. Diana knew what that was like—she'd certainly decided early on in her school days to not care about the "in crowd"…mostly because they'd decided early on to isolate her and tease her mercilessly.

Diana knew full well that she was a bit of an oddity in this class: she was American, which put her in an "outsider" position. And who knew what would happen when her status as a Fulmina got out in the general populace of school.

She also knew that now was when she should establish herself…if she was going to play those kinds of popularity games. Of course, it took no thought whatsoever for her to come to a decision: she was who she was and anyone who didn't like it could go play their little power games…as long as they left her alone. The minute they decided to come after her or hers, Diana would crush them so that individual would serve as a warning to the rest of them. Was it fair to be thinking about crushing an eleven year old? No, not really. But there was a not so small part of Diana that distinctly remembered what it was like to be the outcast of her grade (or year, as they said here at Hogwarts), and she had absolutely no intention of repeating the experience. As far as those under her protection—like Belinda was shaping up to be—it was only good manners to take care of your friends. If nothing else, so they could take care of you (if you needed so mercenary a reason).

These musings ended as the First Years got to the Great Hall doors. Before they could enter, Prefect Addams turned around. "Once you have your class schedules, you will wait until I come get you. I will bring you back to the Common Room to get your things for class. You will have ten minutes to collect your bags. Then I will escort you to your first class.

"For your first week, one of the prefects will escort you to all of your classes, so that you have a chance to learn where the classrooms are. Any questions?" The arched eyebrow of the prefect seemed to tell them all that they'd better keep silent. "Good." She turned and led them into the Great Hall.

Belinda leaned over to Diana. "She's a little creepy, don't you think?"

Diana smirked. "Just a bit," she agreed.

"But then, what do you expect from an Addams?" Belinda shrugged.

Diana gave Belinda a vague smile. Apparently there was a lot more to pretending to be raised in Wizarding society than she'd thought. _On the other hand, if I can't bluff my way past a bunch of eleven year olds, I should hand in my adult card._

Once seated at the table, Diana found herself confronted with a variety of dishes that weren't on her usual breakfast menu. In fact, she wasn't in the mood for anything fried or heavy (which was pretty much anything from a traditional English breakfast). However, the pickings seemed pretty lean. There was some fruit, which she availed herself of quickly. Apples weren't really her thing—though she was a fan of the occasional sour apple—but bananas and oranges were perfectly fine. As were blackberries and cherries, two dishes she made it a point to snag from. She really wanted some cottage cheese, but didn't see any anywhere. She did, however, manage some yogurt. A glance in Belinda's direction showed that the girl had managed to get herself some food this time.

Most of the First Years were just finishing up their breakfasts when Professor Snape came around and gave them their class schedules. Tucked inside were their appointments for their physicals. Belinda and Diana did some quick comparisons and found that they were on the same schedule (apparently they'd be with Slytherin House all the time) and they found that their physicals were at two entirely different points of the week. Belinda's was that day at four, while Diana's was Friday morning at eleven. Diana had an extra slip of paper with her schedule: Professor Snape had set her an appointment to come see him Friday after dinner, at seven o'clock.

"First Years, let's get moving," Prefect Addams intoned.

The students scrambled to follow her in two neat little lines.

* * *

Transfiguration, the first class of the day, was taught by Professor McGonagall. She was a strict, no-nonsense teacher who impressed the class by transforming her desk into a sheep. After a short lecture, she then passed out matchsticks for the children to transform into needles.

A little under an hour later, Belinda tried to console Diana as they walked out of class. "Everyone has a class that they aren't very good at. And no one got their matchstick to turn into a needle, so it's not like you're falling behind or anything."

Malfoy laughed, his cronies following his lead. "Looks like the Colonial can't cut it here in the _real_ Wizarding World."

"Go to hell, Malfoy," Diana snapped.

"Enough," Prefect Selwyn interrupted. "Miss Adamson, five points from Slytherin for language and breaking rule one."

Diana stared at the prefect. "He started it." Internally she winced at the childish retort.

"And I'm finishing it," the prefect retorted. "Keep it up, I'll ask Professor Snape to assign you a detention." Diana glared mutinously, but didn't say a word. "Good. Now, follow me, I'll be taking you to History of Magic, with Professor Binns."

* * *

The History of Magic classroom was grey and dull. The ghostly teacher spoke in a monotone, and Diana leaned over to Belinda, "You think he's so boring 'cause he's trying to kill us so he'll have some company?"

Belinda smothered laughter behind her hands.

* * *

Defense Against the Dark Arts was worse than History of Magic. At least in History, you could read the textbook during class and get something resembling a good idea of what Binns was talking about. Professor Quirrell, however, was alive and…okay, maybe not well, but certainly alert enough to notice when students weren't paying attention. Worse, the man stuttered so badly that it was nearly impossible to follow what he said.

As they left class, Belinda turned to Diana. "Maybe we'll get used to it over the school year?"

Diana wasn't holding out much hope.

* * *

On their way back from Defense, Belinda asked Prefect Gemma Farley (the Fifth Year female prefect) how to get to the Hospital Wing. She got rather good directions and, about half an hour later, asked Diana if she wanted to come so she would know where to go when it was her turn later in the week. Diana didn't have anything better to do—there was homework, but not much and it could be done after dinner—so she agreed to come with.

The duo carefully followed the path they'd been given to get to the Hospital Wing, but came to a stop when they saw a pair of red haired Gryffindors ahead. The Weasley twins had been pointed out that morning at breakfast as a pair to avoid. They were already notorious pranksters, despite only being in their Third Year. It was worth noting, however, that the pair were equal opportunity pranksters—they'd get anyone who drew their attention. The red heads were whispering to each other and appeared to be trying to enchant one of the suits of armor. Belinda and Diana carefully withdrew from around the corner.

"How do we get past them?" Belinda asked worriedly.

Diana frowned. "Part of me wants to say that we just walk past," she said quietly. "The rest of me realizes that that just may be a silly idea."

A jovial voice interrupted. "Well, well, Gred, look what we have here."

"Looks like a pair of Ickle Slytherin Firsties, Forge."

Diana and Belinda froze and looked up.

Weasley Twin One eyed the pair speculatively. "Wonder what you're…"

"…Up to, hiding here where we can't see you," Weasley Twin Two finished.

Belinda threw Diana a look that Diana couldn't interpret. Before Diana could react, Belinda curtsied deeply. "Oh great pranksters of Hogwarts," she said grandly, "my companion and I were on a long and arduous quest to find the Hospital Wing when we saw you working just around this very corner. We decided that, rather than interrupt two Grand Masters of the Prank at work, we should seek out an alternate route to our destination. However, before we could complete our discourse about what path we might take, you found us here, in this very spot." She rose from her curtsey and looked at the Twins expectantly.

The Weasley Twins exchanged a brief, glance before they each stepped aside and bowed, holding an arm out to motion the girls on through. "Far be it for us…"

"…To interrupt the valiant quest of the ickle Slytherin Firsties."

"Thank you, O Great Ones, for your understanding in this matter." Belinda tugged lightly on Diana's arm to get her moving.

Diana let her feet move on auto-pilot as she stared, slack-jawed at Belinda. Once they were well away from the Twins, Diana hissed, "Where did _that_ come from!?"

Belinda blushed. "Um, well, the Weasley Twins are pranksters, and like the attention and spotlight, right?" Diana nodded dumbly. "So, if you play it up around them, even if it's obvious you're exaggerating, they'll appreciate the grandiose gestures of the drama and the silliness of it all." She considered for a moment. "Maybe _especially_ if the exaggeration is obvious."

Diana shook her head in awe. "I'm impressed," she admitted.

_The Hospital Wing is very white,_ was Belinda's first thought upon entering the room. There were several beds lined up along the walls, and a series of windows along the far wall. There was a large fireplace pretty well centered in the room, and two doors—one leading to a loo and one leading to, presumably, the Healer's office.

Indeed, an old woman came bustling out of the office, clad in the traditional clothes of a Healer. "Well, what can I do for you girls?"

Belinda suppressed the desire to look at Diana and get her to speak for them. _It's _my_ appointment, after all,_ Belinda thought to herself. _It's only right that I take the front position on this._ "I'm here for my check-up, Ma'am."

"Ah, excellent, dear. And it's Madame Pomfrey. Go ahead and have a seat over on the bed behind the curtains." She looked at Diana. "Thank you for walking her up here, but you can head back to your Common Room now."

Belinda shot Diana a desperate look. Belinda hated anything that smacked of St. Mungo's; she had for the last seven years. Thankfully, Diana seemed to interpret the look correctly, _I wonder how she always does that. Could it be part of her empathy?_ and spoke up. "Madam Pomfrey? I was wondering if I could wait here for her? I promise not to make a mess, or interrupt, or be a bother or anything. It's just that," she looked uncomfortable and shy for a moment, "I'd feel better if I had company on the walk back." She looked up through her bangs. "I have a book," she said, pulling one out of an interior pocket in her robes to show the nurse. "I can sit quietly and read."

Madame Pomfrey nodded once. The look from her patient to the girl begging to stay hadn't been missed by the canny mediwitch. "Very well." She motioned to a chair. "Have a seat there. I'll send Miss Black out when she's done."

Belinda relaxed, perversely glad that Diana wouldn't be in with her during the exam and glad that Diana would be waiting for her when she finished.

"Come along, Miss Black," Madame Pomfrey instructed. Belinda followed Madame Pomfrey to the area behind the curtains and hopped up onto the bed as she'd been instructed. "Now, go ahead and lie down." Madame Pomfrey set up a quill and parchment. "Have you ever had a physical before, dear?" Belinda nodded. "Well, this should be similar. There will be a couple spells I'm going to use that aren't generally used at St. Mungo's, though. Don't worry, they won't hurt," she reassured the tense girl.

Belinda just nodded.

Madame Pomfrey waved her wand in several complex patterns and spoke several incantations as she did so. One of the first ones had the quill and parchment writing out Belinda's basic vitals. Several of the middle ones gave the mediwitch clarification on some of the information she'd gotten from Belinda's vitals, and the last spell had the quill begin writing out Belinda's medical history.

Once the quill had finished, Belinda saw that Madame Pomfrey was quite angry. Belinda tried not to, but she found herself pressing into the bed, trying to hide without really moving. She didn't relax even when the mediwitch took several controlled breaths and forcibly calmed herself. "Who used the Draught of Living Death on you, child?"


	9. One of the Pblms of the Wizarding World

A/N: Sorry about not posting yesterday: real life can be a pain. Is this month over yet?

On a story-related note, we have some frank discussion of child abuse in this chapter. There aren't any actual details or descriptions, but the warning is here just the same.

**Chapter 9**

**One of the Problems of the Wizarding World**

Before Belinda could answer, they heard Professor Snape's deep voice inquiring about Diana's presence. There was a quiet reply and a few moments later Professor Snape spoke from the other side of the curtains. "Madame Pomfrey, Miss Black, my apologies for being late. I had hoped to observe Miss Black's physical, if that would be acceptable with both of you."

Madame Pomfrey looked at Belinda and got a nod. She stepped over to the curtain and motioned for Professor Snape to come in. He stepped through, his eyes immediately going to Belinda. "Miss Black, thank you for allowing me to observe."

The girl's voice was quiet as she replied, "It's my pleasure, sir."

Madame Pomfrey nodded once. "Good timing, Severus. Belinda was just about to tell me who had used the Draught of Living Death on her." The nurse noted that the Potions Master was unsurprised at the knowledge that the powerful, and dangerous, sleeping draught had been used on the girl.

Belinda refused to meet the matron's eyes. "Auror Richard Longbottom, ma'am."

Madame Pomfrey stared at the girl in shock. When the child didn't elaborate, she exclaimed, "I'm going to need more information than _that_, child!"

Belinda sighed and glanced at Professor Snape. He was as imposing as ever, but seemed to convey supporting strength with it rather than any form of disapproval. Belinda turned to the Matron. "He was Harfang Longbottom's son. He captured me shortly after the Dark Lord's defeat and decided to 'put me in storage' while he ran off to deal with my mother. As I understand it, he died trying to capture my mother, her husband, her brother-in-law, and Mr. Crouch Jr."

Madame Pomfrey remembered the incident now. After Alice and Frank Longbottom had been tortured into insanity, Frank's cousin Richard had gone after the culprits, but had been killed by Bellatrix Lestrange while he was focused on Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange. However, she didn't recall hearing anything about a child under the Draught of Living Death. "How were you revived?"

Belinda shrugged. "Professor Snape woke me up."

Madame Pomfrey turned to Severus in surprise. "Severus?"

He looked at Belinda, who nodded, before answering. "Few people knew that Bellatrix Lestrange had a daughter," he told Madame Pomfrey, "so no one knew to look for her after the Lestranges' imprisonment. Miss Black was found, three years after the fall of the Dark Lord, by Augusta Longbottom, when she went to look over the state of her nephew's house before considering whether or not to sell it. When she found Miss Black, she alerted the Headmaster, who asked me to take a look. I recognized the effects of the Draught of Living Death, we revived Miss Black, and she was cared for at St. Mungo's for several months before being placed in the custody of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy."

Madame Pomfrey stared at Belinda Black. _The poor dear!_ she thought.

Belinda was no fool: she could see the pity blossom in the school nurse's eyes. She wanted nothing to do with it, however, and spoke up, "Ma'am? Am I free to go now?"

Madame Pomfrey shook herself. "Not yet," she said firmly. "I haven't finished reading through your history yet."

Belinda sighed. She knew what else would be coming. That didn't mean she wanted to sit here for it, though. "I don't see why you're bothering," she said sourly, taking comfort from Professor Snape's presence. "What you find won't change anything."

Pomfrey and Snape exchanged looks. Both knew that the child was right: the Wizarding World was quite backwards from the Muggle World in certain ways, and the utter lack of a Child Protective Services of any kind was one of them. Children were generally seen as something close to the property of their parents. Most Wizards cherished children deeply and could no more consider harming them than they could fly without magic. However, corporal punishment was still common in many pureblood households, and the rare case of genuine abuse _did_ happen. And there was no legal recourse to remove the child from the home until _after_ something life threatening happened to them.

However, Professor Snape knew he had to tell Belinda something. "While it's true there is a lot we can't do," he agreed, "we can at least make sure that you receive care for any issues at the beginning of the school year. We can ensure proper nutrition over the months you are here at Hogwarts. And there are other things that can be done, depending on your particular situation."

Belinda gave Professor Snape her unblinking stare.

…And several long moments later, she was the one to blink and break the gaze. She was astonished: no one had forced her to blink first since…_Since I woke up from the Draught,_ she admitted to herself.

Madame Pomfrey, who had taken the staring contest as a good chance to go over Belinda's medical history, looked up sharply. "Miss Black, would you care to explain some of this?"

Belinda withdrew into herself. "Different guardians have different rules," she said quietly. "I can't always learn the rules of a new house as fast as I should." Her voice dropped to near-inaudible. "And different guardians have different requirements."

Professor Snape scowled as he realized some of what the pair were implying. He held his hand out imperiously to Madame Pomfrey and she thrust the parchment to him. He read down the sheet, seeing a couple bumps and bruises before the Draught, nothing unexpected from a five year old. He saw the indications of weakness one could expect from three years of unmoving, death-like sleep. However, starting when Belinda was six, there were indications of sexual and physical abuse for six months, followed by three months of nothing, followed by nine months of physical abuse with rare occasions of sexual abuse, followed by six months of malnutrition, followed by six months of physical abuse, followed by three months of nothing (_That was when she spent the summer with me,_ he realized, noting she was eight and a half at that point). The odd pattern of abuse, malnutrition, and decent care all jumbled up with strange periods of time continued right up until present day. Fortunately, the sexual abuse hadn't been repeated since those two early times.

"Miss Black," he said, controlling his own emotions, "I realize you have been in the care of several different guardians, but _who_ had you after your sixth birthday?"

Belinda stared at the professor with wide eyes. "Amycus Carrow," she whispered. "Uncle Lucius took me in for a few months after that, to give me time to heal from what he'd done, but when my accidental magic destroyed the peacock's hut—you know, where they go to get out of the rain?—he decided to see if Alecto Carrow wanted me. Mr. Amycus was able to get me alone a few times, but then I got too old and he told Uncle Lucius I was a bother and should be passed on to someone else. Alecto was bored with me by then too."

Severus and Poppy exchanged sick looks. Belinda had lived through things no one should ever have to deal with. At the same time, however, it appeared the worst of it was over and—if the abuse wasn't current—there wasn't much they could do. Hunting down the Carrows wasn't even really an option: they'd disappeared from even their fellow Death Eaters shortly after giving Belinda up. "How about Avery, Miss Black?"

Belinda shrugged. "He wasn't so bad. He didn't really want me there, but as long as I stayed out of his way he didn't come looking for me."

Snape and Pomfrey exchanged another one of those commiserating looks. Finally, Poppy stood up and began bustling about. "Well, Miss Black. I'm going to put you on a regimen of nutrition potions to help get you up to weight. You still have a couple of years' growth in you, so you may gain some of your parents' height. As for the rest of it, come see me before school ends and I can give you a small supply of bruise balm and other healing potions, how does that sound?"

Belinda stared at Madame Pomfrey in surprise. That actually sounded like a reasonable idea, considering they couldn't just take her away from Uncle Lucius. She nodded a couple times. "Thank you, Madame Pomfrey."

The mediwitch nodded once. "You're quite welcome, child. Now, drink this up, then I'm done with you. For breakfast and dinner every day, there will be another one of these beside your plate. I want you to drink them before eating."

Professor Snape interjected, "And if either of us have reason to believe you aren't taking your potions, Miss Black, you will have to report to Madame Pomfrey or myself every day before breakfast and dinner so we can ensure you are taking them, is that understood?"

Belinda nodded hastily before downing the blue potion. She was pleasantly surprised to find that it didn't taste bad at all: usually potions were among the worst tastes one ever encountered.

The professor seemed to read her mind, because he informed her, "Nutrition potions are meant to be consumed before a meal, Miss Black. If they were horrendous to the taste, no one would eat after taking one."

Belinda nodded her understanding before hopping off the bed. "May I be excused?"

Professor Snape glanced at Madame Pomfrey and saw her nod. He turned to Belinda, "As it is still first week, I shall escort yourself and Miss Adamson to the Great Hall."

As they emerged from behind the curtains, Professor Snape saw—even if Belinda didn't—that Diana's eyes dropped to her book as though had been watching the curtain. "We're done," Belinda told her.

Diana smiled and stood as she tucked her book away. "Dinner?"

Belinda smiled sheepishly as she realized the nutrition potion had kicked in. "Yes. I'm very hungry."

Diana held out her left arm. "Then shall we, milady?"

Belinda giggled. "Let's!"

Professor Snape allowed a small, tolerant smile to cross his face briefly as he followed his students out the door.


	10. Tuesday Classes

A/N: …Yeah, so I don't really have anything to say. Thanks for reading!

**Chapter 10**

**Tuesday Classes**

After dinner, the girls decided to spend to rest of the evening in their room doing homework, teach Diana about the Wizarding World, and staring out into the waters of Black Lake to see if they could find a mermaid.

The next morning after breakfast was Charms, where they met Professor Flitwick. He was the tiny teacher that they had seen at the Head Table, and he was apparently the Head of Ravenclaw. He was very excitable and his love of Charms was quite apparent when he caused a pair of pineapples to go tap dancing across his desk. They began working on the _Lumos_ charm in class. Belinda got it on her first try and immediately began coaxing Diana through her sudden worries that she couldn't do magic.

"Diana, it's only our second class where we cast spells. Charms is entirely different than Transfiguration." When Diana weakly spoke the incantation again to no effect, Belinda said pointedly, "Lack of confidence will ensure the spell doesn't work."

Diana scowled at Belinda.

Belinda shook her head. "Here, let's try something. Close your eyes." Diana sighed, but closed her eyes anyway. "Now, I want to you reach out and feel your wand. Really know every inch of it. Give it a little wave if you have to, to get a feel for the balance." Belinda saw Diana wave her wand slightly. This time, sparks flew out of it. "Got that?" Diana nodded. "Good. Now, I want you to reach deep inside yourself and you should find the source of your magic. It might be warm and bright, or it could be cold and dark. Whatever it is, it'll feel different than the rest of you."

Diana groped around for several minutes before she realized that Belinda was talking about that wonderful electric sensation of her Quickening.

"Once you find it, grab it and push it into your wand as you twirl it and say…." Belinda trailed off as she saw Diana's wand begin glowing. There had been a twirl, but no incantation.

"Very good, Miss Adamson!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed, startling Diana into opening her eyes. "I heard your tutelage, Miss Black. Ten points to Slytherin for helping out a classmate." He moved onto the next group.

Diana stared at her wand. "How'd I get it to light without saying anything?"

Belinda shook herself. "Your wand must be one that's good for non-verbal spells. _And_ you must be powerful. Not everyone can master non-verbal magic."

Diana laughed self-consciously. "Don't consider that mastered," she warned. "I was more than half in a trance and just doing as you told me." She shook herself. "However, now that I have an idea of what I'm looking for…_Nox_."

Her wand tip went out.

Diana nearly squealed in joy as Belinda looked on indulgently. Diana looked back up at Belinda. "Together? 1…2…3…"

"_Lumos!_" Their wands lit up together.

* * *

After lunch was Herbology with the Ravenclaws. The class was taught by Professor Sprout, who was the kindly Head of Hufflepuff House. The class was mostly lecture about safety equipment, although they got to wander around Greenhouse One when she was finished. Diana found herself fascinated with several of the plants, as they moved in ways that she found quite odd for supposedly immobile plant life.

* * *

That night, the pair did their homework in the Common Room after dinner, and so were there when Theodore Nott came storming in. He threw himself into a chair in front of the fire and proceeded to glare into it like it had made his best friend cry.

Belinda frowned a bit from where she and Diana were sitting at the table closest to where Nott was. After several minutes, Diana prompted, "If you're worried about him, go ask if he's alright."

Belinda stared at Diana. "I…I don't know if I should…."

Diana gave Belinda a Look. "You haven't written a single word since he came in five minutes ago. Go talk to him. It's okay to be concerned about a classmate."

Belinda hesitated another moment, then screwed up her courage and headed over to him. "Hey, Theodore," she said quietly, perching on the edge of a nearby chair.

The thin boy transferred his stare to Belinda. "Belinda."

Belinda wasn't exactly encouraged by this and glanced at Diana for a bolster to her courage. She looked back at Nott. "Are you alright?" she finally asked.

He stared at her for several moments before transferring his gaze back to the fire. "I just had my physical."

"Ah," she said. She sat silently for several moments. "If it helps, I had mine yesterday."

He turned back to her. "What did Madame Pomfrey say?"

"I'm on a regimen of Nutrient Potions twice a day until further notice. And if I stop by the Hospital Wing before summer break, she'll give me some Bruise Balm and other healing potions."

Nott turned back to Belinda in surprise. "You mean…you still…."

Belinda shrugged slightly as she looked away. "Avery wasn't so bad, but a lot of the others haven't been as easy. And I don't know where I'll be this summer."

The pair sat in commiserating silence for several moments before they remembered there was another person in hearing range. They both winced and looked towards Diana.

The look on her face as she met their gazes wasn't one of pity. It was one of empathetic pain. "Belinda, I already suspected. Nott…." Diana shook her head to clear it. "If there's anything I can do," she said seriously, "let me know." When Nott scoffed, Diana admitted, "I may not be able to do much, but if there's anything I _can_ do, let me know." With that, she turned back to her books to give the pair the illusion of privacy.

Belinda smiled slightly at Theodore before she stood to rejoin Diana. "Belinda," he said impulsively. She paused. "…Thanks," he finally finished. "And if you would, both of you. Call me Theo."

Belinda blushed a bit before nodding her head in acquiescence. Diana looked up with a small smile of her own. "Long as you call me Diana," she agreed.

The two girls returned to their homework as Theo got up and headed back to his room to get started on his own.

* * *

That night, while preparing for bed, Diana remembered something Belinda had mentioned during the Opening Feast. "Hey, Bel?"

Belinda turned to Diana. "Yes?"

"You had mentioned something the Hat had told you during your Sorting. You still willing to talk about it?"

Belinda shrugged as she sat down on her bed in her nightgown. "It said I should stick with you. That…oh, what was it… That you'd do me more good, than I'd do you harm." She shrugged. "This was right after a bit about it putting me here in Slytherin for 'not the reasons I thought.' It said it was putting me here because of me, not because of my parents."

Diana blinked a couple times. "Your parents? I'm sorry, but…I got the impression they weren't around anymore," she said delicately.

Belinda nodded once. "Dad disappeared ten years ago. Most people are pretty sure he's dead. My mother is Bellatrix Lestrange." She watched Diana carefully.

Diana frowned a moment in concentration. She remembered that name from somewhere…. Then it hit her. "Wait a minute. Bellatrix Lestrange…the _Death Eater_!?"

Belinda pulled her pride in her bloodline around her like a shield. "Yes."

Diana goggled at Belinda for several moments. "Wow." A thought entered her head with all the force of a Quickening bolt. "Have you even seen your mother since she was put in prison?" she asked.

Belinda shivered. "Yes. Once or twice a year, for the last five years."

Diana tried to remember why that was a bad thing. There was something about the Wizarding prison, but she couldn't remember what…. "What am I not remembering?" she finally asked.

Belinda smiled sourly. "Azkaban is guarded by dementors. And they don't just shut off their powers because a child is nearby."

Diana remembered what dementors were: she was pretty sure the whole Azkaban set up would qualify as cruel and unusual punishment in the States. "And you visit there _once or twice a year_!?" she exclaimed.

Belinda nodded unhappily. "I don't know if Mom even recognizes me anymore. She did at first: she was thrilled I'd been found. As well as pissed at what had happened."

Diana shot Belinda a questioning look.

Belinda sighed. "After the Dark Lord disappeared, Mom left me with a babysitter while she went out to try to find out what had happened. I was five years old at the time." Diana frowned. The math didn't work out right, but she didn't interrupt. "An auror by the name of Richard Longbottom broke into the house, killed my babysitter when she tried to protect me, and kidnapped me as 'leverage against the Lestranges.' He didn't know I wasn't Mom's husband's child," Belinda added as an aside. "Well, he decided to 'put me storage' for a while so he could take care of Mom and the other Lestranges; so he dosed me the Draught of Living Death. He got killed, I wasn't found until three years later. Professor Snape was the one who revived me. After a long time in St. Mungo's to recover from the Draught, I was given to Uncle Lucius who generally decided he didn't want me around. So he passed me off to various friends and acquaintances to care for me. End of story."

Diana shook her head, amazed. "That sucks," she finally said.

Belinda couldn't help it. She laughed. "Yes, yes it does," she finally managed.

The pair lay on their beds in silence for several long minutes.

"The Hat said I was a definite match for Hufflepuff," Diana admitted.

Belinda rolled over and faced Diana. "So why aren't you there instead of here?"

Diana shrugged. "Near as I can tell, the Hat takes into account your own preferences. Frankly, I'm thrilled. Sensei would be _pissed_ at me if I wound up a Badger. I need to write to him," she realized.

"I'm pretty sure the school has postal owls you can use," Belinda told her, putting out the lights on her side of the room.

Diana followed suit. "Yeah. Hopefully they have one that can go to France. If not, I'm not sure how I'll get a message to him."

"You can always ask Professor Snape. He might be able to answer that question."

Diana yawned once. "Only after asking a Prefect," she recited.

Belinda giggled sleepily. "Right."

Moments later, the only sound in the room was that of two girls sleeping.


	11. Potions, Pomfrey, and the Professor

A/N: The summer semester has started up. I'm torn between happy I have something scheduled to do, and unhappy because…well…school.

Two chapters for today because I didn't put one up yesterday. Sorry 'bout that.

And all underlined parts are taken directly from HP:PS/SS. The speech is just too damned good to not use!

* * *

**Chapter 11**

**Potions, Pomfrey, and the Professor**

{A/N: All underlined parts are taken directly from HP:PS/SS}

The next few days were uneventful. Homework was handed in, spells were practiced, more homework was assigned. Diana found out that there were a few of the school's owls that could go to France and used her new-found knowledge to send a letter off to her mentor. Friday, however, was the first class with the Gryffindors.

"Potions with the Lions," Belinda stated as they were walked down to the Potions Classroom. "This should be interesting."

Diana smiled slightly at Belinda. About that point, the Prefect opened the door to the classroom. The Slytherins all found seats quickly, as the Gryffindors came up behind them. The dungeons were chilly, as always, and many of the Gryffindors seemed to feel the chill keenly. The Slytherins, on the other hand, were a bit more prepared for the chill…they lived down here, after all.

Professor Snape swept into the room, a loud _bang_ from the closing door the first clue he was anywhere near. Diana jumped, and was very proud of herself for checking her instinctive grab for her dagger. He began without any word other than taking roll. When he got to Potter, he made some crack about celebrity, and Diana had a sudden feeling of sympathy for the kid. This was the closest she'd been to the Boy-Who-Loved, and she was mildly surprised to see that his glasses didn't fit his face properly and appeared to have been repaired several times. In fact, it looked like they were held together with scotch tape.

Roll continued, and Professor Snape put down the parchment and looked out over the class.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word—like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. Diana was impressed. Professor Snape couldn't be more than thirty-five years old: it took real talent to cow a classroom with that little experience. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

A shiver ran down Diana's spine and she exchanged an excited look with Belinda.

And then Snape began picking on Potter.

Diana scowled as the professor asked several questions of the poor child and derided the child's lack of knowledge. She could sympathize with his annoyance at Hermione though: Diana had almost always been the student with all the answers, but she had learned early on to keep silent and not wave her hand about. If the teacher wanted to call on you, they would. If they didn't, they wouldn't. It was as simple as that. Damn near climbing out of your seat wasn't the way to win a teacher over.

Despite her disapproval, she jumped to scribble down the notes when everyone else did.

Once they started on their potions, Diana found that it was kind of like cooking with a really old recipe: the kind where the amounts included "a pinch" and "a dash." There was certain amount of instinct that appeared to be required so you could understand if an ingredient was more potent or less potent than usual. Fortunately, this first potion was very basic, and both Diana and Belinda could tell it was nearly impossible to mess up, as long as you followed the directions.

Unfortunately, it appeared that one of the Gryffindors lacked the ability to follow simple written instructions, as his cauldron exploded about an hour into class. Professor Snape looked the Gryffindor over before sending him to the Infirmary Wing with Hermione. Then he rounded on Potter and took points for Potter not stopping the boy from adding the porcupine quills before taking his cauldron off the fire. The rest of the Slytherins laughed at the look of helpless fury on Potter's face, while Diana fumed. As she and Belinda finished their potion and bottled it, Diana went over exactly what she wanted to say to the professor. It had to be respectful, tactful, and absolutely cutting to get her true displeasure across. She also had to remember that he thought she was an eleven year old.

By the end of class, she wasn't sure she could keep her anger in check so she left class with the rest of the Slytherins. For the first time, they were allowed to head to the Common Room without a Prefect. Probably because the Common Room was so close to the Potions Classroom.

Diana switched out the books in her bag—she wanted to make sure she had her things for Defense just in case—and let Belinda know that she was going to head out to her physical.

"Do you want me to come with?" Belinda asked.

Diana smiled. "I'm alright," she said. "Go ahead and get a head start on the Potions homework. See you at lunch!"

* * *

Diana entered the Hospital Wing ten minutes before her appointment. Madame Pomfrey was just finishing up with the Gryffindor whose cauldron had exploded in class. "I'll be with you in a few minutes, Miss Adamson," Madame Pomfrey said. She told the Gryffindor he could go and headed back to take some supplies into her office.

Diana spoke up before the boy could leave. "Neville, right?"

Neville froze and looked at her. The look on his face was one of near terror. "Y…Yes. That's me."

Diana smiled gently and held out her hand. "My name's Diana. Diana Adamson." He shook her hand, all the while looking like he was waiting for her to jump him or something. "Are you alright?"

He shrugged, embarrassed. "Madame Pomfrey fixed me up," he told her.

"Well, I'm glad you're okay then."

Madame Pomfrey came out of her office. "Miss Adamson, behind the curtain please."

"It was nice meeting you," Diana told Neville.

"I…You too." The boy fled the room.

Diana shook her head as she headed for the physical area. _How in Heaven's name did that boy get Sorted into Gryffindor?_ she wondered. She put her bag down beside the bed and sat down. She also forcibly drew her thoughts back to her exam.

The healer came bustling into the exam area and spoke to her. "Alright, dear, if you'll just lay down…."

"Madame Pomfrey," Diana interrupted.

"Yes?"

"Is there anything like…well, I guess it would be healer-patient confidentiality?"

The matron blinked at the First Year a couple times. "What do you mean?" she asked, curious.

Diana sighed. She really didn't want to admit to too many people that she was intimately familiar with the Muggle World. But there were several reasons why it couldn't be helped. "In the Muggle World, anything a patient tells their doctor is called 'privileged information.' Which means the doctor can't tell anyone without their patient's consent. It's to ensure that people feel comfortable telling their doctors _anything_ that may impact their health, including illegal drug use, if you cheat on your spouse, that kind of thing."

Poppy Pomfrey blinked at the young child several times. She knew the girl was a member of the Order of the Fulmina, but she hadn't realized that the child was apparently capable of discussing and understanding on an adult level. She pulled herself together, though, and answered, "No, the Wizarding World does not have healer-patient confidentiality."

"Then I respectfully refuse any and all medical care."

Pomfrey was floored. "You can't," she told her. "Professor Snape told you that there's no getting out of these exams."

Diana shook her head firmly. "If I can't ensure you'll keep quiet about what you find, I have to refuse the exam." She saw the suspicions bloom on Pomfrey's face. "And no, I'm not now, nor have I ever been, an abused child." Diana was rather proud of that statement. It was absolutely true, while at the same time being so misleading that anyone could be forgiven not realizing that there was a lie hidden within it.

Madame Pomfrey sat back. "I can take a Wizard's Oath not to reveal anything I find here, so long as any…let's call them discrepancies…are explained to my satisfaction." She held up a hand to stop Diana from speaking. "If things aren't explained to my satisfaction, I will tell Professor Snape. You will be there, and you will have the chance to explain things to him. Agreed?"

Diana studied Madame Pomfrey's face and decided that this was the best she was going to get. "Agreed."

Madame Pomfrey pulled out her wand and made her oath. Diana lay back and let the exam begin.

The results of the first spell were fine: Diana was in good health for a child her age—actually, she was in better health than most eleven year olds. It was when Madame Pomfrey cast the medical history spell that she received a shock.

The history went back over thirty years!

Madame Pomfrey stared at the parchment, then at Diana. Back and forth several times.

"I can explain," Diana said sheepishly.

"I should hope so!" Madame Pomfrey exclaimed. "What is going on here?"

Diana sat up. "I'm thirty-eight years old," she told the mediwitch. "I sit here before you as an eleven year old, due to a deaging potion that my mentor in the Fulmina had me drink."

Madame Pomfrey shook her head. "Deaging potions don't work," she said absently. "The combination of ingredients required is invariably fatal."

Diana hopped off the bed, took the parchment with her history on it and read through a bit. "Here," she pointed.

The nurse looked at the section Diana was pointing to. "It says here you died!"

Diana nodded again. "All Fulmina have a special ability," she explained. This was going to take a little care to tell the nurse enough to ease her medical care, without giving away everything about the Immortals. "I'm just as easy to kill as a normal person…I just don't tend to stay dead for long." Diana knew she was splitting a few hairs, but every word coming out of her mouth was truthful. They just weren't quite connected the way she was implying. "I have yet to experience something that will keep me dead." _That_ was true enough. "So, when I began to show indications that I would be manifesting magic soon, my mentor and a friend of his concocted this scheme to deage me, then sent me here to Hogwarts for schooling."

Madame Pomfrey stared at the girl for several long moments before she managed to pull herself together. "If you experience any poor side effects because of that potion, come let me know _immediately_. Do you know if it's supposed to last a certain amount of time, or did it act upon you and then wear off."

"It finished passing through my system completely about a month ago," Diana assured the mediwitch. "Nothing you give me should be able to interfere with it. The effects are supposed to last for ten years."

The nurse nodded briskly before she looked back down at the parchment and reviewed it carefully. After several moments, she looked up in horror.

Diana smiled bitterly. "Yes, I lived a hard life for a few years. Please, let's not make a big deal about it."

Madame Pomfrey scowled. "Will you be returning to any such situation during the summers?" she demanded.

"I shouldn't," Diana assured her. At the mediwitch's stern look, Diana protested, "It's not like I planned for the kidnapping and following events! Trust me, I plan to keep my head down as much as possible during the summers right now. I couldn't defend myself properly if my life depended on it." _Which it does,_ she thought sourly.

Madame Pomfrey scowled a bit herself. She wasn't sure how much she liked the idea of an adult living in with the students. But then she hesitated. "I've seen you at meals a couple times," she said slowly. "You don't seem…." Her voice trailed off. She was uncertain what she was actually going for.

Diana smiled wryly. "I've been warned that unless I concentrate, I'm going to act like an eleven year old most of the time. Has to do with the fact that my body—which includes my brain, my hormones, and the like—actually _is_ that of an eleven year old. My natural impulses at this point are to behave like a child. I can override them, and occasionally I feel every bit of the age difference between myself and my classmates, but for the most part I act like a typical eleven year old because that's what I feel like."

Madame Pomfrey studied the girl for several moments. "I suppose I can accept that," she agreed.

Diana smiled charmingly. "So you're not going to go to Professor Snape?" she checked.

The nurse shook her head, smiling. "No, I'm not going to go to Professor Snape. However," Diana nearly groaned, "I want you to come to me if you need to talk." Diana blinked in surprise. "It can't be easy, having an adult's mind in a child's body. Especially when no one around you knows your secret. If you don't feel you can confide in me, you need to find another adult you _can_ confide in…preferably with the whole truth." Diana squirmed under the piercing glare sent her way. "Don't think I don't realize you were editing several things from your story. That's alright, I'm pretty sure you didn't lie, nor did you leave out anything I needed to know, but for your own sake, Miss Adamson, find someone to talk to."

Diana nodded, blushing slightly. "I kinda realized I was going to need someone about a week ago. I'm just not sure who I can talk to yet," she admitted.

"Well, think about it," Madame Pomfrey advised. "And remember, I'm here if you need me. Now, scat. It's almost lunchtime."

"Thank you, ma'am!" Diana hopped off the bed.

"One moment." Diana froze. "What may I tell Professor Snape? He likes to know the results of these exams."

Diana shrugged. "I'm healthy. I'm not abused. Will he want to know more?" At Madame Pomfrey's nod, Diana sighed. "When will you let him know the results?"

"He usually stops by before supper."

"You can assure him that there's nothing to worry about. Please don't tell him anything that will lead to him guessing I'm older than I look. Nor about my problems with dying. If he's not satisfied with what you can tell him, tell him I asked you to take an oath not to talk about it. He can ask me directly: we have a meeting this evening after dinner."

Madame Pomfrey nodded and Diana grabbed her bag and headed off to lunch.

* * *

The rest of the school day passed uneventfully, and soon Diana was standing in front of Professor Snape's office door. She knocked, hoping being ten minutes early wasn't too much of a problem. The professor struck her as a "right on time" person. She, however, never felt comfortable with arriving right on time: what if something came up that delayed you? If she was on time, that meant she was about ten to fifteen minutes later than she'd planned.

However, a deep voice intoned, "Come in," and Diana relaxed from her time-worries as she entered the office. There were shelves on all the walls, with a smattering of books and jars on them. She wasn't sure if he'd only recently moved to this office, or if he'd undergone a sort of major "Spring cleaning" over the summer, but the shelves definitely looked like they were more empty than they should have been. "Miss Adamson, please, sit down." Professor Snape motioned to the chair in front of his desk.

Diana hopped into the chair and looked up at Professor Snape. It was his meeting, after all, and his office, and he outranked her, so she was perfectly willing to let him start.

"How has your first week of classes been?"

"Very good sir. Transfiguration looks like it's going to be difficult, but Charms and Potions were a lot of fun." She nearly laughed at the look on her Head of House's face. He appeared torn between pleased that she'd enjoyed his class, and peeved that she'd used the word "fun."

"And your classmates?"

Diana shrugged. "I haven't gotten a chance to know most of them yet. Belinda's great, of course, and Theo seems like a good sort. I'm sorry if you like him, but I think Malfoy's a pretentious little git and Parkinson's nearly as bad. Crabbe and Goyle let themselves be overshadowed by Malfoy, so finding out about them will probably be harder than it should be. Greengrass seems to be making friends with some Ravenclaws, and Zabini appears even more arrogant than Malfoy—he's just quieter about it. Bulstrode, on the other hand, is another quiet one. Though I'm not sure if that's because she's not already part of one of the cliques, or because she doesn't want to be."

Snape sat back in his chair. He had to admit, he was mildly impressed. That was quite the concise summary for an eleven year old. There were certain things she'd missed, but they were things she couldn't know yet because she hadn't grown up in British Wizarding society. Yet, she didn't seem to think there was anything out of the ordinary in her analysis. Rather than call attention to it, he turned the conversation to why he'd set up the meeting in the first place. "When we last spoke, you said that your mental shields were not magical in nature. What did you mean?"

Diana knew she was going to have to spill about her empathic powers: she'd known since that first evening. She was just hoping that the information wouldn't get back to the Headmaster. "First, can I have you promise not to tell anyone what I'm about to tell you?"

"No."

Diana blinked. No explanation, no protestations, just 'no'. She sighed. "I'm not asking for a Wizard's Oath, or anything."

"No."

Diana floundered.

Professor Snape smirked. He was rather enjoying the child's quandary. Oh, he had no intention of telling anyone unless the information proved dangerous to her or his other Snakes, but it was fun to watch her try to figure out what to do next. He was mildly surprised that she hadn't turned it around and refused to tell him unless he promised. It showed that she really wanted to have this conversation…whether for the information he held or just because she needed someone to talk with as Madame Pomfrey had mentioned to him remained to be seen.

Diana finally got an idea. She wasn't sure it would work, but it was worth a shot. "If I promise I'm not going to read your mind or your thoughts, would you lower your shields? Just partway?"

Snape raised an eyebrow. Now they were getting somewhere. He was confident enough in his abilities as an Occlumens that he was sure he could keep the girl out of anything he didn't want her to see. He rearranged his inner shields and nodded once to her as he lowered his external shields.

Diana nearly cried in relief as she sensed his shields go down. She carefully lowered her own and reached out to taste his emotions. She studied them carefully as she asked again, "Will you promise not to tell?"

Professor Snape's eyebrow raised again. He wasn't sure exactly what she was doing, but he was certain she was checking his mental reaction to the question. "No, I will not," he repeated. He could feel the girl poking around in part of his mind, but she certainly wasn't seeing any memories, or hearing any thoughts. A sudden curious thought had him follow back along the path she had taken and he slipped carefully into her mind. _Odd,_ he thought. _No thoughts, no memories here. Just…emotions?_ He got a sense of worry—not the overwhelming "what do I do" he would have expected, though he could sense the iron control keeping it from getting there. He felt it when she decided what his own mix of emotions meant: the worry relaxed into the background, and a sense of determination replaced it. He could feel her annoyance at his amusement while underlying it all was a sense of fierce independence laced with loneliness that he was surprised to find in a child's mind.

He also noticed the moment she realized he had turned the tables on her. There was a jolt of panic, then a sense of realization when she felt where he was. The panic faded into resignation.

Snape thought it was telling that she didn't push him out. He gently extricated himself and raised his own shields again. "Did you get what you were looking for?" he asked.

Diana nodded. "I did, sir. I'm an empath," she said simply. "I can read people's emotions. However, if I don't protect myself all the time, other people's emotions can overwhelm me. That's why I developed my shields."

Snape nodded once. Now that he'd seen the pathway she had taken into his mind, he had an idea of what she was talking about. And she certainly wasn't using Legilimency. It was more like the natural abilities of certain Magical Creatures. "Legilimency," he began, "is the art of penetrating another person's mind and interpreting what is found there. It is nothing so crass as 'mind reading,' as some try to call it. Occlumency is the mental art that is used to defend against Legilimency and other outside influences. So it is possible that you are using a form of Occlumency when you protect yourself from others' emotions."

Diana nodded slowly. "What are the ethics of using Legilimency on a child?" Her eyes flew wide as she realized what she'd just implied. "I'm not worried about you, Professor," she said hastily. "When I kept you out, you let it go. But…."

"But?"

Diana hesitated. She wasn't sure she wanted to relay what Professor Snape's boss had done. Finally, she shrugged. "The Headmaster didn't stop when I kept him out at first. He just kept telling some ridiculous story to try and distract me while he pushed harder."

Professor Snape nodded once. He wasn't overly surprised. The Fulmina were incredibly secretive and the Headmaster was a wizard who thrived on information. "It's considered very rude to continue to attempt Legilimency when you've already been pushed away. And it is illegal on children. However, the Headmaster has the safety of the students of his school to consider, so etiquette is not always his first concern, and you're not considered a child under the law."

Diana frowned. "If he was worried that I'm some kind of threat, why did he allow me to come here for schooling? Had he turned down Sensei, I would've been sent somewhere else."

Snape didn't tell her that—to a busy-body like the Headmaster—the only thing worse than a Fulmina student successfully keeping Fulmina secrets was never getting access to said student in the first place. "He likely doesn't think you are a threat. He just wanted to be sure."

Diana shook her head. "As you say, Professor."

Snape had a sudden impulse, and it seemed like a good one so he said, "If you're interested in Occlumency and Legilimency, I suggest you find a book called _Magic and the Mind_, by Mitchell Medulla. It has a rather good comprehensive overview of both arts, and several beginner's exercises for Occlumency."

Diana brightened. "Thank you, Professor!"

"Now, unless you have any questions, I suggest you head back to the Common Room."

Diana stood and moved to the door. She took a deep breath and braced herself, fully expecting a detention for what she was about to say. "Professor, there is one thing."

He looked up from his grading and raised an eyebrow.

Diana met his gaze with steely determination. "What kind of fully grown adult attacks an eleven year old boy?" She watched the hint of confusion in his eyes, followed by understanding and rapidly replaced with rage. "Just something to think about, sir," she added as she turned and opened the door.

Amazingly, she was able to leave without being called back in.


	12. Transfiguration

A/N: Sorry about the cop-out on the scientific explanation on how transfiguration works. I wasn't up for making it up. Oh yes, and I'm a chemistry major. Diana's knowledge is things I learned in Inorganic Chemistry I, so I'm perfectly happy letting her keep it.

Also, warning for some light swearing.

* * *

**Chapter 12**

**Transfiguration**

Diana had gotten the expected detention for her words to Professor Snape: four hours spent scrubbing cauldrons on that first Saturday morning. He watched her like a hawk, but she did well and didn't grumble or raise a fuss: it was well within his purview as a teacher to give her a detention for her cheek. Truthfully, she was just glad he hadn't made her write lines: she despised lines as a punishment.

After that little hiccup, though, school quickly settled into a routine. Weekends were for homework and exploring while the school week was for classes and homework. Both girls made it a point to try to get their homework done as early as possible so they could have plenty of time during the weekends to wander and get lost.

The first flying class (the second week of school) was with the Gryffindors. Neither Belinda nor Diana were overly enthused about it: they were certain it would be a minor disaster—rather like Potions kept trying to turn out to be.

Sure enough, right at the beginning of the lesson, Neville broke his arm when a broom refused to respond to him properly. While Madame Hooch was off taking him to the Hospital Wing, Malfoy filched the Rememberall the clumsy Gryffindor had gotten from his grandmother that morning. When Potter stepped up and demanded it from him, Diana just pinched her nose and shook her head, knowing full well where this was going end up. Sure enough, both boys foolishly took to the air. Unfortunately for Malfoy, McGonagall was the teacher who caught them.

When Madame Hooch returned, she inquired about what had happened to her two missing students. Granger—did she _never_ miss out on a chance to show off?—informed the teacher what had happened. Madame Hooch shook her head, then continued the lesson. Afterwards, while they were putting their brooms away, Diana muttered to Belinda, "Never _don't_ follow through on your threats. Similarly, don't make empty promises." At Belinda's confused look, Diana elaborated, "Madame Hooch said anyone who was in the air while she was gone would be expelled." Belinda nodded slowly. "Bet you ten…galleons that Malfoy and Potter both will still be here at dinner."

Belinda blinked slowly a couple times as she considered Madame Hooch's behavior during class. "You know, I think you're right."

Sure enough, both boys were at dinner and Potter even seemed to have gained some notoriety amongst his fellow Gryffindors. Professor Snape looked furious.

* * *

The days went by as Belinda and Diana learned some of the very basics of magic. It wasn't long at all before Diana was putting together a study group. As she explained to Bulstrode ("Call me Milly") and Theo, "It's entirely selfish, really. I may be good at Charms, and I like Potions, but for some reason Transfiguration just doesn't make any kind of sense to me." It was well-known amongst the Slytherins, who tried to keep it from the rest of the school, that Diana was the last person in their year to successfully transfigure a matchstick into a needle. In fact, Diana struggled so much with it, that near the end of their third week of class, Professor McGonagall asked her to stay after. Belinda sent Diana a sympathetic half-smile and a whispered, "I'll wait outside for you."

Diana returned the smile weakly as she packed up her things and set her bag on her chair. Once the room was clear, she approached the Deputy Headmistress' desk. "Yes ma'am?"

Minerva McGonagall focused her attention on the girl standing before her desk. While she certainly didn't approve of the girl befriending the daughter of Bellatrix Lestrange, she was well-behaved and certainly helped others who seemed to need it. "Miss Adamson," she began, "your essays are well thought out and decently organized. You certainly grasp the theory behind Transfiguration: that comes out in class as well as your essays. Professor Snape assures me that you're in a study group with others who should be able to assist you in learning the spells. Your wand is even your own; it's not an heirloom. In fact, every indication says that you should have at least an average ability with Transfiguration. Do you have any idea what the problem is?"

Diana shrunk in on herself a little more with every sentence. As the Sorting Hat had mentioned, she had more than a little Ravenclaw in her (hell, Gryffindor was the only House she wouldn't have fit in well) and the "good girl" side of her was nearly in tears at the thought that she was frustrating her teacher so badly. Hell, she was frustrated with herself. So she shouldn't have surprised herself when she finally broke down and exclaimed, "It shouldn't _work_!"

Professor McGonagall was a bit taken aback. "I beg your pardon?"

The prim phrasing just frustrated the student more. "Turning a matchstick into a needle. They're about the same size," she admitted, "so it's not like we're violating the Law of Conservation of Mass, _yet_," she added as she shot the teacher's desk a dirty look as she recalled the desk-to-sheep trick, "but carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and sulfur are nowhere near iron on the periodic table of elements! They aren't in the same period, row, nothing! Sulfur and iron both have an ionic charge of two, but one's positive and the other negative! The elements from the matchstick aren't even the same _type_ of elements as what's in the needle: iron is a transition metal, hydrogen is special, and everything else is a non-metal!" She huffed slightly and stared helplessly at Professor McGonagall. "Why does it _work_?" she added plaintively.

Professor McGonagall stared at the girl in bemusement during her rant. She didn't understand more than a quarter of what the girl had been saying, but she understood enough to realize one primary thing. "You're Muggleborn, aren't you?"

Diana stopped and stared at the Transfiguration teacher. "I'm doing it again, aren't I?" she sighed. "Damn it, I _have_ to stop letting my lack of Wizarding knowledge show."

"Two points from Slytherin for language, Miss Adamson." Diana nearly growled. "And I only ask because other Muggleborns have had similar problems in the past. The difference being they don't usually comprehend the material well enough to answer questions in class, or to write coherent essays about it," she mused.

"I'm parroting," Diana admitted.

"You're what?"

"Parroting," Diana repeated. "Frankly, I understand the reasoning used, but just because something is _logical_ doesn't make it _true_."

McGonagall realized suddenly where the root of Diana's problem lay. "You don't believe it will work."

Diana stared at her teacher helplessly. "No," she admitted. "Even now that I've done it once, I still don't really believe it should work." Her scattered emotions were lowering her shields enough that she could sense Professor McGonagall's frustration, confusion, and sympathy. "I know," Diana said finally, "there's not a whole lot you can do to help me if I don't believe it will work. The only thing that will help it is working through it and trying it enough times that it _does_ work and I can override my own disbelief." She picked up her bag. "If that's all, Professor? I really should get going to History of Magic."

"I'll see about thinking of a solution to your problem, Miss Adamson. In the meantime, here's a pass for yourself and Miss Black."

Diana smiled briefly. "Thank you, Professor McGonagall." She turned and fled the room.

Belinda was startled at the sudden exit of her friend, but she ran after her to catch up. "So? Did she have any ideas on why you're having so many problems?"

Diana shook her head, trying to clear the tears of frustration that began falling. "I don't _believe_," she hissed fiercely, "so it doesn't _work_." She gulped down air, trying to stop herself from crying.

Belinda glanced around a moment, then gently tugged on Diana's arm to pull her into an abandoned classroom. "There's no way you can go to class like this," she admonished gently. She pulled out a handkerchief.

The gentle assistance of her roommate caused Diana to lose the battle she was fighting against herself. The tears started flowing fast and free. She finally let go of the frustration that was causing the tears and just indulged in a several sobs. It was a few moments before she felt a pair of thin arms wrap around her shoulders and a whispered voice say, "Go ahead and cry it out."

Several minutes later, Diana straightened up and dabbed at her face with the handkerchief. "God, I hate it when I get like this."

"Merlin."

Diana blinked at the utter non-sequitur. "Huh?"

"'_Merlin_, I hate it when…'" Belinda corrected.

Diana blinked a couple of times, then laughed. As the last of the tension left her, she smiled. "_Merlin_, that felt good. I'm sorry for the minor breakdown. I have this tendency to get overly frustrated with myself, which devolves into tears, which just makes me more angry and frustrated, which causes more tears." She shook her head and handed back the handkerchief. "Apparently my problem with Transfiguration is that I don't _believe_ it will work. So I can't do it."

Belinda stared at Diana. "You've seen Professor McGonagall do it. I've done it. You've actually managed to change the matchstick a couple times. Granted, only the once was all the way into a needle, but you managed it."

Diana shrugged slightly. "I know all of that. It doesn't change that I have this deep-seated belief that such things aren't possible. You can't change lead into gold," she said, semi-philosophically.

Belinda frowned. "Actually…."

"I know," Diana said tiredly. "But it's a simple fact of the muggle world that elements _can't_ change. A substance might, but that's only because the elements have moved around a bit." She shook her head. "It's alright. I'll just work my ass off for the next several years, and be grateful when I don't have to take Transfiguration past my OWLs."

"But you need NEWT level Transfiguration for a lot of decent jobs," Belinda told her quietly.

Diana smiled wryly. "A job isn't a problem for me," she told her friend. "As a Fulmina, I've got a few different options open to me when I get to that point. So my NEWTs aren't exactly a major worry of mine." A sudden thought occurred to her. "Oh phoo."

"What?"

"Unless Sensei decides he wants me to take NEWT-level Transfiguration. Damn it!" Belinda giggled. "What?" Diana asked suspiciously.

Belinda giggled again. "I don't think I've ever heard someone say, 'Oh phoo' in one sentence, and 'Damn it' shortly thereafter."

Diana glared at Belinda but soon devolved into giggles herself. "Come on," she said, getting up, "we should get to History before it's _entirely_ over. This pass isn't to let us skip, just be late."

* * *

Unfortunately, this wasn't the last Diana heard of her problems in Transfiguration. That Friday, just after History, Prefect Addams gave her a note from Professor Snape. He wanted to see her that evening at seven o'clock.

"Well, it could be worse," Belinda told her. "You could actually be in trouble."

Diana just looked at her helplessly for several moments before returning to her Charms essay.

That evening, Diana knocked on Professor Snape's office door. She entered when he bade and stepped up to just before his desk, already feeling miserable. She wasn't sure if she was in for a lecture or a pep talk, though she was pretty sure she'd prefer the lecture. A lecture she could half ignore, secure in the knowledge that she really was doing everything she could to get through the class. A pep talk would be terrifyingly uncomfortable, as well as ultimately futile.

Professor Snape observed Diana for several silent moments. He'd set aside his grading as soon as she'd entered the room: she wasn't in trouble, so he would do her the honor of respecting her presence—as he did for all of his Snakes. He could see a few of the thoughts cross her face: primarily the uncertainty of whether or not she would be yelled at, as well as the resignation that either way she was in for an unpleasant evening. Eventually, he spoke, "Please, Miss Adamson, sit down." As she did so, he came from around his desk and had a seat in the other chair, facing towards her. "Professor McGonagall tells me you're having problems in Transfiguration." He left the prompt there, to see if she had anything to say.

Diana nodded twice. As the silence settled, she began to fidget. She tried not to look at him, but as the silence dragged on she finally took a peek. He didn't seem upset. Dread flowed through Diana. _So, pep talk it is,_ she thought, resigned. "Yes sir," she finally said, just to break the oppressive silence.

Professor Snape waited for another moment, then continued. "She also said that it appeared that your problem was disbelief. She said something about Muggle knowledge interfering with what you believed, though she didn't seem to understand exactly what you had been saying."

Diana shrugged helplessly. Repeating her rant wouldn't help; Professor Snape wouldn't understand her problem anymore than Professor McGonagall had. "Just that Transfiguration breaks the Fundamental Laws of Chemistry," she said softly, bracing herself for utter confusion.

Professor Snape, however, surprised her. "You are referring to the Law of Definite Proportions, I assume," he drawled. "Professor McGonagall doesn't get around to asking you to break the Law of Conservation of Mass until after the Christmas holidays."

Diana's head whipped up as she stared at Professor Snape in shock. Here was someone who _understood_! Even better, he was a wizard so he could—hopefully—explain just what bit of knowledge she was lacking to understand exactly why magic broke the natural laws she'd known for so long.

Professor Snape smirked. "You aren't the first of my students to come to me with an understanding of Muggle science," he told her. He considered her for a moment. "Why don't you have a problem with Charms? Most students who are grounded in the sciences have a problem with Conservation of Energy in Charms."

Diana shook her head. "No. The energy is coming from the caster for Charms," she said simply. "Or you're pulling it from the environment and just acting as a channel. That's why too much magic can tire you out. It's not just the brainwork and concentration involved, there's an actual energy expenditure as well. I'll admit that it's an amazingly efficient system, but there's energy expended."

"Herbology?"

Diana grew sheepish. "I've never been much of one for life sciences," she admitted. "I don't know too many details of why the plants should or shouldn't have the properties they do."

"And Potions?"

Diana gave him a "duh" look. "Certain ingredients have certain properties," she said simply. "And when you do certain things to them—mixing them a certain way, or heating them to a certain temperature—they react a certain way to the process, as well as each other. That's basic Chemistry," she informed him. "Potions just uses different ingredients."

Professor Snape nodded. He'd half-expected that reaction for his own class. Most Muggleborn didn't have much of a problem with concept of Potions: they either likened it to Chemistry, or cooking, or both. He launched into an explanation of the science behind Transfiguration. It primarily involved using the "amazingly efficient system" of magic to break apart and reform nuclear bonds. An hour later he wrapped up with, "If you have any further questions take a look through this book." Professor Snape handed over a book titled, _Magic and Science_ by John Cook. "It was written by a Muggleborn who left the Wizarding World long enough to attend university and get a degree in the physical sciences. If you have any questions about what you read, let me know."

Diana smiled sleepily up at her Head of House. "Thank you, Professor," she said, yawning. "I'll return it as soon as I'm done with it."

"Come. It's after curfew, I'll escort you back to the Common Room."


	13. Stop Helping Me!

A/N: The girls meet Fluffy.

**Chapter 13**

**Stop Helping Me!**

Belinda knew Diana's problems in class were driving her to distraction. So, it was only logical to find something to distract her for a few hours. Something that would take up enough of her attention that she'd be forced to forget about her class troubles.

Belinda thought about exploring the dungeons (the pair hadn't done so very thoroughly yet), but decided the thrill of the unknown would be tempered too much by the knowledge that they were inside the castle: it couldn't be _too_ dangerous. The Forbidden Forest was an idea. A problem out there could escalate very quickly, but it was open enough that if they stayed to the outskirts they should be able to escape easily enough.

Unfortunately, Saturday morning proved to be a typical Scotland Autumn day. Cold and rainy. Belinda wracked her brain over breakfast before coming up with a solution.

The third floor corridor!

It was perfect, probably even better than the Forbidden Forest. Sure, magic was officially banned in the hallways, but unofficially it happened regularly. And if they got in over their heads, all they had to do was run _out_ of the corridor and they should be safe.

"Come on!" Belinda grabbed Diana's arm and gently tugged her away from the Great Hall as soon as they'd both eaten breakfast.

Diana glared impotently at Belinda. She was tired (she'd been up late last night trying to finish her History of Magic essay) and—thanks to the long meeting with their Head of House the night before—she still had a Transfiguration essay to write. "Belinda, I've still got homework to do. Remember our rule? Homework first, then fun."

Belinda lightly steered Diana into a side room. It was one of the rooms set aside for meeting with visitors that—for whatever reason—didn't have their meeting's in the Headmaster's Office. It wasn't _forbidden_ for students to be in these rooms, but it wasn't exactly encouraged either. "The homework can wait a day," Belinda told Diana. "I have an idea to help take your mind off of class troubles."

Diana smiled slightly. "That would be _wonderful_," she told her friend gratefully. The stress from Transfiguration had begun to slowly spill over into other areas of her life: most notably that's where Diana thought her latest youthful tendencies were coming from.

"Originally, I thought we could go check out the edges of the Forbidden Forest," Belinda said, much to Diana's fascinated horror, "but the rain made that a bad idea."

"Thank Merlin," Diana muttered.

"However, then I realized we have another mystery right here in the castle!"

Diana stared at Belinda in horror. "You don't mean…."

Belinda nodded vigorously. "The third floor corridor!"

Diana groaned. "You _heard_ what the Headmaster said at the Opening Feast!" she exclaimed.

Belinda waved the objection away. "Neither of us are fans of the Headmaster. Who cares what he says?"

"Who…cares…!?" Diana sputtered. "Just because I think he's a…a nosy, self-absorbed _madman_ doesn't mean that I think he _lied_ to us about the third floor corridor! It's _dangerous_ up there!"

"And it's probably quite well contained," Belinda added. "We can just peek in, if you're so worried."

"The door is probably locked," Diana said desperately.

Belinda gave her a _look_. Diana was getting real sick of seeing her own "you idiot" look thrown back at her. "And we're _both_ far ahead enough in Charms that we know the _Alohomora_ spell."

Diana stared at Belinda for several moments. The earnestness in the girl's face was clear. This wasn't just something to distract Diana anymore. Belinda had decided that she wanted to know what was behind that door and nothing was going to stop her. "And if I say no?" she asked resignedly, already knowing the answer.

Belinda knew that tone and struggled to keep the triumph off her face, though it still showed a bit in her tone. "Then I'll just go without you," she said decisively.

Diana sighed. "Let me go get a couple things from our room," she told Belinda. "If we're going to do this, we're going to do it right."

Belinda's face glowed with joy.

* * *

Once Diana had grabbed several items from her trunk and secreted them about her person (Belinda saw several potions, an array of daggers, and even what looked like a small sword) the pair headed up to the third floor. Belinda directed Diana to stand lookout while she unlocked the door. Fortunately, the lock seemed to be a simple lock and Belinda was able to open the door after a word and a flick of her wand. Diana nudged Belinda over. Belinda rolled her eyes, but obligingly moved. This was one thing they'd argued over, but Diana had stood firm. Diana was going to go in first, and Belinda would go get help if necessary.

The door opened slowly and both girls peeked in. Inside the long, high-ceiling corridor (that looked like it had seen better days) was a loud rumbling noise. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust, but when they did, both girls gasped. About halfway down the dimly lit hallway was a large, three headed dog. The rumbling noise was him growling at them warningly.

Diana backed up slowly, pushing Belinda away with her. It was only a couple steps before Diana was able to close the door, which she did with great haste. The pair stared at each other for several moments. Eventually, however, Diana's mind started working again and she physically dragged Belinda away from the area. "There. We've seen. It's a giant, cranky, three-headed guard dog. No more reasons to ever go into that room again."

Belinda suddenly tugged her arm away from Diana.

Diana didn't know whether to cheer or despair. It was great that Belinda was suddenly showing a backbone; Diana had been trying to push her into being more assertive. But why did she have to pick _now_ of all times!?

"He must be so lonely up there," Belinda started.

Diana stared at Belinda in shock.

"He's a _dog_," the copper-eyed girl emphasized. "Dogs are pack animals. Even guard dogs. And even three-headed guard dogs."

"You are _not_ going to go make friends with it!" Diana was aghast.

Belinda smiled brightly. "Why, Diana! What a wonderful idea. Let's go see if we can find a ball or something to play with him with. And the kitchens might have some food we can give him."

Diana was nearly in shock, so she didn't resist the sudden pull on her arm.

* * *

It was after dinner before the duo went back to the third floor. Diana had spent most of the day alternately begging for Belinda to reconsider and begrudgingly helping to acquire a few toys and some food. This time, at Belinda's insistence, the young pureblood went first. Diana consented because she was so far beyond high alert that she was worried she would freeze up, rather than pull her friend out of harm's way.

Belinda on the other hand, had the door open in a trice before she took a single, semi-large step inside the corridor. Diana squeezed in behind her and closed the door, then froze. The dog's growling got a bit louder when the girls came in, but when Belinda didn't make any further movement, he eventually stopped growling. Diana watched, amazed, as Belinda—who was standing calm as can be—kept a slightly hunched posture as she held out the bloody roast they'd stolen from the kitchens. She motioned for Diana to act. They'd decided sometime after lunch that Diana would levitate the roast over to the dog, since it was possible she might manage it silently. And even if she _didn't_ manage it silently, most of the dog's attention should be on Belinda as the one in front anyway.

Diana slipped into the light trance she'd been practicing all day and silently incanted, _Wingardium Leviosa_ as she swish-and-flicked her wand. It took two tries, but she got it going.

Unfortunately, the dog didn't seem to like magic—or he just didn't like the roast floating—and he began growling softly again.

"Drop the spell," Belinda whispered lowly.

Diana didn't need to be told twice.

The roast landed halfway between the girls and the dog with a _splat_. The dog edged forward slightly, the middle head sniffing at the roast while the other two heads kept an eye on Diana and Belinda. Diana found herself trying to copy Belinda's submissive pose. _I know how to show deference to human beings,_ Diana thought crossly. _I know _nothing_ about dominance games with animals._ Besides, no way was Diana going to fully submit in this situation: she had to keep Belinda safe, one way or another.

Belinda, meanwhile, decided to start up a quiet dialog with the three-headed dog. She kept her voice at a low pitch, and made sure she remained calm. "That's it. The meat is for you," she told it. All six ears perked up at the sound of the girl's voice. "We're just here to make friends," she said. "We don't want to get past you, whatever you're protecting is all yours. We just want to say hi, and give you something to eat, and maybe play for awhile." As Belinda spoke, the dog stepped forward a couple steps and dipped his middle head down to sniff at the roast. A moment later, he snapped it up. "Look at that, who's a good boy?" Belinda encouraged. His ears perked at the words 'good boy.' Diana stared, tension leaving her as she was amazed at Belinda's handling of the big dog. "Who's a big, fluffy, puppy?"

The dog's reaction to that last sentence was stunning. His entire being perked up and all three heads focused on Belinda.

Belinda suddenly realized she may have stumbled across something important. "Big." No reaction. "Fluffy."

The dog barked once and bounced.

Diana's jaw dropped and Belinda smiled widely. "Fluffy, that's your name, isn't it?" The dog yipped and bounced again. Belinda took out the red Quaffle they'd gotten ahold of from the "too old to work anymore" pile in the Quidditch shed. The enchantments had either worn out or been stripped, making it just a big red ball. Belinda bounced the ball a couple times, getting 'Fluffy' good and excited before she threw the ball. "Go get it, boy!"

The dog bounded down the hallway after the ball and Belinda took another couple steps into the room, giving Diana a bit of breathing room. "Hardest part's over," Belinda said quietly. "Just don't look him in the eyes, whatever you do. And no threatening moves." Fluffy came back and dropped the Quaffle in front of Belinda. "You want another go?" Belinda asked him. He barked once. "Go get it, boy!"

Diana leaned back against the wall. "Yeah, but there's another hard part to come." Belinda raised an eyebrow. "You're going to have to introduce me to him. _You're_ his friend, sure. But so far have you noticed he's still keeping an eye on me?"

Belinda frowned a touch, but paid attention when Fluffy came back and noticed that, while he was thoroughly enjoying playing with Belinda, he certainly was keeping a wary eye on Diana. After several more throws, Belinda pulled out a large bone she'd conned from the house elves in the kitchens. "Fluffy, do you want a bone?"

Fluffy barked once and bounced again.

Belinda smiled and held out the bone. She also held her breath. So far Fluffy hadn't come into arms' reach of the girl, despite him dropping the ball near her. Diana, however, found she couldn't help tensing. Fortunately, while one head stared at her where she stood near the wall, the other two heads were focused on the girl offering food. It took several long, tense minutes, but eventually Fluffy took the food with his left head and allowed Belinda to scratch behind the ears of his middle head.

Diana knew terror was radiating off of her, but she couldn't help it. Belinda was standing between the two heads and if he decided to attack her, there was absolutely _nothing_ she could do from here. Fluffy's left head growled softly once, a warning growl, before turning to Belinda for his turn at being petted and scratched. The grey-eyed brunette nearly collapsed with relief when the dog's attention was away from her, but the tension of worry for Belinda kept her upright. She watched carefully, but Fluffy really did seem to like Belinda. Diana checked her watch and nearly cursed. "Belinda," she said softly. "It's getting close to curfew. We should go."

Belinda sighed as she gave the left head a particularly vigorous scratch. "Alright." She pulled away. "Sorry Fluffy, but we have to go. I'll do formal introductions between you and Diana next time, okay?" Belinda received a lick that nearly knocked her over. Giggling, she turned to Diana. "Let's go."

It was as the girls were moving to the door that disaster happened. Fluffy apparently took offense to Diana's unconscious move to protect Belinda's back, and there was scarcely a warning growl before he attacked.

Diana blessed Methos yet again for his drills in instilling good reactions in her. She wasn't able to get entirely out of the dog's way—there wasn't enough of a warning for that—but her instinctive turn-and-draw-a-sword turned into enough movement that Fluffy bit her hip, not her arm. Diana cried out and Belinda snapped, "Bad dog!"

Fluffy pulled back and two heads whined at Belinda even as the third growled at Diana.

Belinda didn't have the chance to act further, however, as Diana yanked her through the door and into safety. Diana slammed the door shut and began slowly dragging Belinda away from Fluffy's corridor.

"Are you okay?" Belinda asked. "I'm so sorry, I never thought you'd get hurt like that!"

Diana snarled wordlessly at Belinda, continuing to drag her down a staircase and through a back hallway.

"We really should go see Madame Pomfrey," Belinda worried. "You're limping something fierce."

Diana picked an abandoned classroom (these things were all over the castle) and nearly threw Belinda in before following and slamming the door closed. Diana lowered herself carefully onto a chair. "No Madame Pomfrey," she said firmly. "She'll know where we were."

Belinda fretted as Diana began undoing the front of her robe. "But you're _really_ hurt!" Belinda exclaimed.

"Better me than you."

Belinda fell silent at that. She hadn't realized until now just how worried Diana had been for her.

The silence allowed Diana to open her robes enough to get a look at her hip…well her hip, side, and thigh. The dog had a good sized mouth, and Diana wasn't fully grown anymore. "Help me get my pants off," she instructed.

Belinda moved silently and helped gently move Diana's pants (both her trousers and her underwear) over and around the wound so that they could get a good look at the wound. Belinda gasped and turned away, sickened by the sight of the bleeding, raw flesh.

"Sweet heavens," Diana breathed as the pain of the wound increased three-fold. She braced herself through the wave for a moment before fighting the pain down enough to gasp, "Why does it always hurt worse when you look at it?" She began pushing on the outer edges of the wound a bit, causing more blood to ooze out.

"What are you doing!?" Belinda managed faintly.

"Letting the wound cleanse itself," Diana said, her voice conveying the pain she felt. "That dog's mouth is not exactly sanitary." She shook her head a touch, trying to clear a light sensation of dizziness. "Come on," she said, "let's get to the showers so I can wash this properly. Then we can bind it."

Belinda felt her mind click back on. "You can't go like that."

"I was going to close my robe," Diana said wryly.

"That's not what I mean," she said, taking the trousers and one of Diana's knives and cutting it into strips. "You'll leave a blood trail if you don't put on _something_ to cover the wound."

Diana allowed Belinda to wrap up her leg with the strips of material. "Come on," she said. "Let's go."

An hour and half later found Belinda putting the final touches on Diana's wrappings. "Do I _want_ to know why you have about a mile's worth of bandages in your trunk?" she inquired.

"Just in case," Diana said faintly. She'd taken several of the potions she'd brought that night: a blood replenishing potion, a pain relief potion, and an anti-infection potion. Still, she'd lost far more blood than was advisable and all she wanted to do was sleep and let her blood replenish itself. "Good night, Belinda. Next time, we introduce me to Fluffy first thing."

Belinda stared at Diana as she drifted off to sleep. _Next time? She's willing for there to be a next time?_

Diana jerked awake. "Oh yeah, and no more helping me get my mind off Transfiguration." Her voice trailed off as she finished, "It's too stressful."

Belinda muffled her giggles before crawling into her own bed.


	14. Caught

A/N: Here's another chapter.

**Chapter 14**

**Caught**

Diana's wound was healing up quite nicely, though she was certain she'd carry a scar of the dog's bite for the rest of her (hopefully) very long life. It was difficult hiding the pain she was in from everyone else, but the students were pretty much self-absorbed like children everywhere and the teachers generally didn't pay her much mind, so long as she forced herself to walk normally around them. Belinda was a great help by walking and talking with her constantly, so as to give Diana something to "concentrate" on that explained their slow gait.

However, Diana forgot to account for the sharpest eyes amongst the staff.

"Miss Adamson, please stay after class."

Diana stared at Professor Snape before drawing up her mental shielding. "Yes sir." She turned to Belinda.

"I know, I know," she said, amused. "I'll see you in the Common Room."

Diana returned the smile as Belinda grabbed her bag and headed for the door. Weasley shot Belinda a glare as the girl darted out the door in front of him. Diana narrowed her eyes at the redhead; she wasn't sure, but he appeared to have picked out Belinda as a target for harassment. If so, Diana was going to have to show him what a bad choice that was. In the meantime, however…. "I'm not quite done with the book you leant me, Professor," she said turning to face him. "But if you need it back, I can go get it." Diana was surprised to see the Potions Master standing right beside her, his wand out but down at his side. She "yeeped" in surprise as she tried to take a step back. Unfortunately, she used her bad leg and couldn't quite keep the pain from crossing her face briefly.

"Miss Adamson," Snape said darkly, "you have been limping all week and you have not gone to see Madame Pomfrey. Why not?"

Diana instantly dropped her gaze from his face a forced a blush. "I…I twisted my ankle this weekend," she said quietly. "It's not bad, as long as I'm careful with it. I didn't want to bother the Medi-witch if I didn't need to," she added.

When silence was the only response, she eventually looked up at Professor Snape. He was giving her a glare he usually reserved for Longbottom during one of the Gryffindor's more spectacular mishaps. His hand flicked and Diana gasped as he unerringly poked her thigh wound with his wand. "_That_, Miss Adamson, is no twisted ankle."

Diana gave up the fight and leaned heavily on the desk beside her. "With all due respect, sir," she gasped, "that _hurt_!"

"That was the point, Miss Adamson." Snape watched as the girl struggled to regain her composure. He didn't wait long, however, he wanted her still a bit off-balance. "What _happened_, Miss Adamson?"

Diana scowled. When she spoke, her voice was flat. "Belinda found a dog this weekend. She decided to make friends. He didn't like me much and gave me a parting gift to remember him by. I cleaned the wound right away, and took a blood replenisher and an anti-bacterial just to be on the safe side. We bound the wound once it was dry and we've changed the dressings twice daily since. It's finally to the point where I was going to hang out in my room tomorrow so it could have a few hours of air while I did some reading out of _Magic and the Mind_. I wanted to say thank you for that," she added, brightening. "It's been _fascinating_ reading! I'm not sure how I'm doing on the exercises, but I've been trying to clear my mind every night before bed." She frowned slightly. "I think it's cutting back on my dreams a bit. Not that that's a bad thing," she admitted. "Though the ones I have seem more…powerful, somehow. More important maybe?"

Snape hid his smile at Diana's attempt at changing the subject. It was a beautiful segue, and one he would—under other circumstances—normally be willing to allow. However, one of his Snakes was hurt, and he refused to be deterred from taking care of that. "Miss Adamson, I will give you a choice. You will allow me to examine the wound, or I will take you to the Hospital Wing right now and Madame Pomfrey will examine it." It was more of a choice than he would offer most of his other Snakes, but he found he rather liked the girl's moxie. Since her quip at him at their first private meeting she'd never once said another word to him about his treatment of the Potter brat, though he'd caught a disapproving look cross her face more than once during Potions Class. Still, she was respectful, and thoughtful, and more intelligent and insightful than any other First Year he'd ever encountered. She was less self-absorbed as well.

Still, she was one of his Snakes and would be taken care of whether she liked it or not. And oh, could he see the displeasure on her face right now. He found himself just as amused as he'd been last time he'd stymied her plans. Oh, his own amusement wasn't the only reason he was pushing the girl. She needed to learn that those in power were not to be directly thwarted: one had to work around such individuals. A good Slytherin learned to do so without those in power ever realizing they were being worked around.

Diana finally sighed, before a small smirk crossed her face. _Well, if those are my only two choices…_ she mused, repressing laughter. "Very well, sir. I'd rather have you look it over, if it's all the same to you."

Snape knew better than to trust her sudden good mood, so he went ahead and locked and warded the door while Diana removed her school robes. "If you'd be so kind as to turn around, sir," she said.

Snape narrowed his eyes at her a moment, but turned around. He kept his attention on the girl, however, so he wouldn't be surprised if she tried anything. However, the only thing that happened was the rustle of clothing and Miss Adamson saying, "Okay, I'm ready."

He turned around to find the girl stripped down to her bra and pants. The only way he avoided a blush was by slamming up his Occlumency shields. However, horror soon overtook any embarrassment he felt when he saw the bandages were wrapped not just around Diana's thigh, but around her torso as well.

Diana felt a twinge of disappointment at the lack of embarrassment from the Potions Master. She was _certain_ standing before him bold as a two year old would crack him. However, she saw the following look of appalled anger and knew she was in for it. "It's not as bad as it looks," she said swiftly.

Snape stared at her in astonishment. "Off with the bandages," he said darkly.

Diana felt a shiver go down her spine. _Damn, he's nearly as scary as Sensei in Death-mode,_ she realized with not a little admiration. She carefully found the end of the bandage and began unwrapping herself, rolling up the bandages all the way. Several minutes later, Professor Snape was staring at her bared torso and thigh. He slowly drew his eyes up to meet Diana's. When he spoke, his voice was silky smooth and deceptively soft. "Did this dog, by chance, have three heads?"

Diana was able to keep the blush from her face. "What do you mean?" she asked curiously. It was the first time she'd tried skirting this close to a lie in front of her Head of House when she had the full intent of deceiving him.

It wasn't until she found herself remembering exactly what had happened the Saturday before that she realized her mistake in meeting Professor Snape's eyes. She knew her face showed her horror as she tried to push her teacher out of her mind. It wasn't until she realized she couldn't get a purchase on him that she realized just how courteous he'd been the last two times he'd entered her thoughts. Her shields weren't helping: they were designed to keep people out, not do anything to them once they were already in. She then tried to keep him in recent memories, but apparently her fast reaction to Fluffy's last growl and her behavior upon being injured had piqued his curiosity. Sheer desperation and fear that he would discover her secrets (primarily about Methos) had her calling up a memory she was certain he'd have no real understanding of how to deal with: her first Quickening.

* * *

_ It was a dark night, with a thunderous rainstorm. Clichéd, perhaps, but true. Diana ran through the rain, trying to outpace the man chasing her. She was, unfortunately, in a part of the city she hadn't memorized yet. _If I survive this,_ she thought to herself, _no more whining when Sensei has me memorize maps.

_ Methos' superior survival skills were proven yet again when Diana turned a corner and found herself in a dead end alley. She spun, only to find herself face to face with the Immortal who'd been after her. "You're a tricky one," he said, grinning. _

_ Diana gasped for breath. Rather than answer, however, she simply drew her sword and threw off her coat._

_ The other Immortal did the same. "My name is Kevin Hollister, and I Challenge you."_

_ "Diana Adamson," she replied. "I have no interest in fighting you," she added, still trying to catch her breath from her run._

_ Hollister grinned maliciously. "Then hold still while I take your head," he said simply. "It's all the same to me. There can be only One!" With that battle cry, he attacked._

_ The fight was fast and furious, but Diana was nowhere near as tired and out of breath as she'd acted…and she'd clearly had the superior teacher. It was a matter of moments before she was able to stab Hollister in the stomach. He doubled over from the pain and Diana paused with her sword raised. She managed to resist the urge to speak, however, and forced her arms down. Once Hollister lay on the ground, separated from his head, Diana raised her face up to let the rain wash down on her as she breathed the words she'd held in just a moment before, "In the end, there can be only one."_

_ Then the Quickening struck._

* * *

Snape found himself thrown out of Diana's mind by the force of the blue-white lightning that struck the woman. He was stunned for several moments by a combination of remembered pain/pleasure from the lightning bolts, and confusion at the feeling of alien memories entering his mind with every bolt. It took several deep breaths before he found himself able to focus on Diana again. "Who was that woman?" he demanded harshly.

Diana looked up at the Potions professor with the blank face she'd learned at Methos' feet. "Who do you think?"

The pair stared at each other for several minutes before they heard the bell ring, signaling the start of lunch. Snape broke the gaze first. "Stay away from the dog on the third floor," he told her.

Diana shook her head. "I can't promise that," she told him.

Snape stared at her. "And if I were to put you in detention until you graduated?" he asked, his silky tones returning.

Diana smiled faintly. "I would serve those detentions, and still not promise it."

Snape glared at the girl, but she just met his gaze unapologetically. "Then don't get caught," he snapped. "And promise not to go looking into what he's guarding."

Diana nodded. "I promise not to go looking into what Fluffy's guarding," she repeated. "I'll stop Belinda if she feels the desire to go looking as well. Though, I don't think she will," she admitted. She continued, her bafflement apparent. "She genuinely seems to be worried more about the dog than anything else."

"Go to lunch," Snape instructed. He waited until the girl was gone before he reached for a headache potion. The memory that had catapulted him out of the girl's mind had been all-encompassing, as though he was really there, in the person of the woman. _Who is she?_ he wondered.

_And why does my Snake have that memory from her point of view?_


	15. All Hallow's Eve

A/N: Here's a second one for you!

**Chapter 15**

**All Hallow's Eve**

The weeks fell back into their usual pattern, except that weekends now included a visit or two to Fluffy. Once Belinda formally introduced Diana, Fluffy seemed to back down a bit but there would never be true ease between the pair.

As the end of October neared, Belinda began falling quiet more and more. Diana tried to bring her out of herself, but Belinda was quite resistant. The only times Belinda showed any signs of life were when she was learning a new Charm. Diana took to scouring her bookshelves to find new charms for the pair of them to learn: one of her favorites was _Practical Charms for the Everyday Wizard_. It had a warming charm for when it was cold outside, it had charms to help in cooking and cleaning, charms to help with hair care, make-up, and other sartorial needs…and it kept Belinda outside of her head for a full week and a half.

The day of the Halloween feast, however, nothing seemed to bring Belinda out of her funk. She refused to talk about it—all Diana had managed to get was a wan smile—and Diana suspected Belinda may go visit Fluffy that night. She hoped not, a Thursday was a terrible night, what with so many of the students starting to chafe against the restrictions of the school week.

_Well, hopefully the Feast tonight will distract her,_ Diana thought to herself.

Unfortunately, just before the Feast started, Belinda was nowhere to be seen. "Hey, guys," she asked the other First Years, "has anyone seen Belinda since Herbology? I know she was planning to skip out on Flying, but I haven't seen her since."

There were head shakes all around, though Diana suddenly realized that several of her classmates were hiding something. Malfoy was the one who put it into words. "Let it go, Diana. This is a bad day for her. Worse than it is for most of us," he added, motioning to the other Slytherins.

Diana sat back, nearly alarmed. Malfoy _never_ called her by her first name. It was always "Colonial" or "American" or, if a teacher was nearby, "Adamson" with a not-so-subtle sneer. For him to call her "Diana" meant that he was in a different state of mind from the usual. Diana mentally replayed the moment when he motioned to the other Slytherins. She was certain Crabbe and Goyle were included, Parkinson and Nott were also. She wasn't sure about Bulstrode, but Greengrass and Zabini were definitely _not_ included in whatever he referred to.

Diana sat quietly, allowing the chatter of the Great Hall to wash over her as the food appeared in front of them. As though it was the signal she'd been waiting for, she stood and moved down the table to where three of the prefects were sitting. "Excuse me," she said quietly.

They left her standing for a moment, but did eventually turn to her. "Yes? Adamson, isn't it?"

Diana smiled tightly. "I was wondering if I could be excused from the Feast? Belinda's not here and I'd like to check on her."

Prefect Blishwick frowned slightly. "Belinda?" she asked as she half turned towards Addams and Montague.

"Black," was Addams' only answer.

Montague spoke up. "She asked Professor Snape to be excused tonight. If you want to go after her," he added, "you'll have to ask him too."

Diana turned and looked at the Head Table, only to find that the ever-watchful eyes of the Head of Slytherin House were already on her.

* * *

Snape hated Halloween. Hated it with every fiber of his being. The children would overdose themselves on sugary sweets and excitement, and Madame Pomfrey would be up half the night administering stomach soothers. He'd be brewing for a week just to replace the stocks of the Hospital Wing. It wasn't the use of the potions or the brewing he objected to—he'd never have become a Potions Master were that the case—it was the sheer joy and happiness of everyone around him when this was the day he'd lost the only person he'd ever cared about.

Professor Snape had been feeling rather melancholic when Belinda Black had approached him and asked to be excused from the Feast. As long as she got something to eat from the house elves, he'd had no problems granting the request: he knew she'd lost someone dear to her this day as well.

Potter, on the other hand, didn't have the grace to look even the slightest bit upset.

As the food was served, movement from his Snakes drew his attention. _Ah, it appears Belinda's constant companion was never told that Belinda would be missing the Feast. Interesting._ He took a sip of water as he watched several of his Prefects direct her attention his way.

When Adamson looked up at him, she deliberately met his eyes. He cocked his head slightly, curious what she intended. With a silent, wandless _Legilimens_ he lightly touched her shields, but found that she was keeping them tied up tight. Whether against him or against the excited throng was up for debate.

After another moment, he quirked an eyebrow at her and she seemed to come to one of her decisions. She walked up to the Head Table and stood respectfully a few feet away. Snape found himself mildly impressed: Americans weren't noted for their etiquette but Adamson was standing far enough away that she couldn't be accused of interrupting and close enough that it was clear she was trying to get his attention. What he found even more interesting, though, was the submissive way she kept her head down.

"Are you going to ignore her, Severus? Or are you planning to let her speak with you?"

Snape took another sip of his water before looking at McGonagall. Judging by the flush to her cheeks, Minerva had begun her celebration a little earlier this evening. _Wonderful example to set for the children,_ he thought dryly. "Yes, Miss Adamson?"

The girl stepped forward with three quick, light steps. "Professor Snape, Belinda's not here. The Prefects mentioned she had asked to be excused from the Feast. May I be excused so I can go see if she's alright?"

Snape glanced at Minerva, but found she was now speaking with Hagrid. Severus threw up a quick _Muffliato_ to hide the conversation with his Snake from prying ears. "Diana," he said deliberately. He saw her entire being focus on him. "If Belinda did not tell you she would be missing the Feast, I imagine she wants to be alone. Hal…" He swallowed once to clear the lump in his throat that threatened his ability to speak. "This day," he compromised, "brings up unhappy memories for her. Let her mourn in peace."

Diana stared at her professor for several moments. "What am I missing?" she asked him quietly.

A smirk crossed Snape's face for a brief flash. "Keep your eyes and ears open. You should be able to figure most of it out. I'm surprised you haven't already," he taunted, cancelling the privacy spell.

Diana frowned slightly in thought. "Thank you, Professor," she told him. She turned to head back to the Slytherin table.

A sudden commotion at the doors of the Great Hall suddenly drew everyone's attention and the Hall fell silent as Quirrell ran into the room screaming, "Troll! Troll in the dungeons!" He came to a stop and added, almost conversationally, "Thought you should know," before fainting dead away.

Diana spun back to face Snape as the students erupted in panicked noise. A series of loud _Bangs! _caused everyone to fall silent again. The Headmaster was standing, his wand held up and smoking slightly. "Prefects, take the students to their dormitories where the Feast will continue. The teachers will find and take care of the troll." Diana saw quite clearly the look that passed between Dumbledore and the Head of Slytherin House.

As Snape stood, Diana exclaimed to him, "Our dorm is _in_ the dungeons!"

Snape nodded once as he headed for a side door. Diana followed as he knew she would. "Tell the Prefects I instructed the House to remain here in the Hall and they should ward the doors once everyone else is gone. I'll let them know when it's safe to take you all to the Common Room." He left through the door and Diana sprinted to the Prefects.

Prefect Addams voice cut through the babble of students around them. "What did Professor Snape say?"

"He said we're to stay here," Diana told her. "The Prefects are to ward the doors after the others leave and he'll let us know when it's safe to go down to the Common Room."

"We're not going to listen to a Firstie," Prefect Selwyn sneered.

"Selwyn," Wednesday said, "you're an idiot. Blishwick, Montague, make sure no Snakes leave. Lister, O'Connelly, get everyone seated. Selwyn, you and I will start a head count. Adamson." Diana looked at her fellow American expectantly. "Five points to Slytherin for relaying important information. Go back to your seat."

Diana went back to her seat at the Slytherin table where she was immediately accosted by Malfoy, Greengrass, and Parkinon for details of what was going on. Crabbe and Goyle seemed to be using the chance to get their hands on all the food they could while Theo, Zabini, and Bulstrode were content to simply listen.

"Since the troll was spotted in the dungeons," Diana explained, "and our Common Room is in the dungeons, Professor Snape told the Prefects to keep us here and ward the doors once the other Houses were gone." She glanced at the doors where Addams, Selwyn, and Blishwick were throwing up a series of complicated wards. "I just hope Belinda stays in the dorms," she muttered.

* * *

Belinda was indeed in the dorms. She was in the Common Room in fact, which she had chosen as one of the best places for her private ritual of remembrance that had evolved over the past five years. All the lights were turned off: the only illumination in the room came from the fireplace and the two candles lit in front of her. She knelt, clad only in her school robes (a proper ritual necessitated a certain freedom from clothing not acceptable in other situations). Oddly, though, the sleeves of her robe had been rolled up and pinned, revealing her forearms.

"Father," she whispered to the gold candle on the right, "on this day, above all others, I mourn the loss of you. Since last All Hallow's Eve, I've stayed with Avery, Mulciber, and Uncle Lucius. None of them search for you. Uncle Lucius in particular seems quite content with his position since your disappearance. I made it into Slytherin. Hopefully I can find some trace of where you might have decided to go to so you could recover while I'm here. If not, at least I can make some allies." She brightened. "I've made a friend. Her name is Diana Adamson, and…well, I don't think she's a Pureblood," she admitted, "but she _is_ a member of the Order of the Fulmina! The Sorting Hat actually mentioned her to me. It said she'd 'do more good for me, than I'd do ill for her.' I'm not quite sure what it meant," she admitted, "but is it strange that it seemed to imply I wouldn't be good for her?" She shook her head a bit. "Oh! And the Sorting Hat wasn't the only one who told me I should stick close to her. I met the Witch of Donan Woods! Or at least, she _said_ she was the Donan Witch, and Diana and her escort at Diagon Alley certainly seemed to believe her.

"That said, Hogwarts is _fantastic_! She's so grand, and there's a giant three-headed dog in one of the corridors! His name's Fluffy, and he's guarding something or another—there's a trapdoor in the corridor with him. He likes me a lot, but he's not a big fan of Diana," she admitted. "I'm not sure why. At least the two of them have come to an agreement of sorts. Diana stays by the door and Fluffy doesn't do more than growl at her once in awhile." Belinda paused and considered. "Charms has been great fun, and Transfiguration is difficult, but very rewarding. Diana had a _lot_ of problems with Transfiguration in the beginning, but she's doing a little better now. She's still in something like the bottom quarter of our class in spell casting, but she's top amongst the Slytherins for the theory, and rumor has it she's neck and neck with Granger in both Charms and Potions! Granger's a Muggleborn from Gryffindor," Belinda admitted, "but everyone agrees she's the smartest witch in our year and should have been in Ravenclaw. Draco's more than a little steamed about the whole thing.

"I can't say I'm a fan of History of Magic. Was Binns as dull when you were here? Astronomy is rather fascinating: I usually think of the stars as dancers across the velvet backdrop of the sky and I do really well on my star charts as long as I remember their steps! Defense Against the Dark Arts is a joke. Professor Quirrel has a stutter and, even _if_ we could understand him he's too afraid of his own shadow to do _anything_ effectively. I look forward to the summer when I can study the Dark Arts properly. Potions is alright: Professor Snape favors his House a lot, so about half of Slytherin House tends to kind of coast through the class. I work really hard, though, and I'm _still_ running a borderline Acceptable/Exceeds Expectations.

"What else?" she wondered. "Oh yeah," she said flatly, her countenance growing dark. "Because of the mess with the Draught, I'm in _Harry Potter's_ year." The venom as Belinda spat the name was astonishing. She grew silent for several minutes. "I wish you had never gone after him," she whispered. "If you hadn't, you'd still be here, and Mom would still be around, and I wouldn't have lost three years…," her voice trailed off. "So, if you aren't dead, I hope you've got an idea of how to come back. And if you are dead…." Belinda sniffed. "Well, I just hope you aren't. Love you, Daddy."

Belinda turned to the silver candle on the left. "Mum, I hope you're okay. Well, relatively speaking. I probably won't be coming to visit until the summer hols, so I'll see you then. Love you, Mum."

Belinda blew out the candles and sat in silence for several moments. Then she leaned down and kissed the faded Dark Mark on her left forearm. "I miss you, Father," she whispered one final time.

* * *

Belinda was curled up on one of the chairs by the fireplace when the Common Room door opened and Slytherin House came pouring in. She was surprised that everyone appeared to have returned at the same time…and were they talking about a _troll_!?

"There you are!" Belinda was suddenly attacked and immobilized.

She tensed up for several moments until she realized that she recognized that straight brown hair. "Diana?" she asked, confused.

Diana pulled back from the hug but continued holding Belinda's shoulders. "I was worried when I didn't see you at the Feast," she said. "Professor Snape wouldn't let me leave to check on you, then Quirrell came in yelling about a troll in the dungeons…." She inhaled deeply and let it out slowly before pulling away. "I'm just glad to see that you're okay," she said finally.

Belinda stared at Diana in surprise. "I…I didn't think you'd worry," she admitted.

Diana stared at Belinda in shock. "Are you _kidding_?" she exclaimed. Belinda could almost see it as Diana's thought processes kicked in and the brunette stopped just reacting. "No, no you aren't," she realized quietly. There was silence between the pair for a moment and Belinda wondered just what Diana was thinking. After a moment, Diana turned and walked away. Belinda watched, feeling a pang in her chest until she realized her friend was just going to Prefect Lister. The pair conversed for a moment and Diana motioned towards Belinda. Lister looked at Belinda, then back at Diana and nodded. Diana came back to Belinda and grabbed her arm. Belinda felt the familiar sensation of being dragged back to their dorm room.

Once there, Diana closed and locked the door. Belinda took a seat on her bed, and waited until Diana took a seat on hers. Belinda watched as Diana took a deep breath, held it for a couple moments, then exhaled slowly. Only then did the Fulmina speak. "I get the feeling that you've never really had any friends while growing up," she said.

Belinda blushed slightly. Had it been that obvious?

Diana reached out and touched Belinda's knee lightly. "Look, it's nothing to be ashamed of," she said soothingly. "Frankly, it's their loss, because I don't understand why someone _wouldn't_ want to be friends with you. However, being friends carries with it a few responsibilities."

The raven haired girl narrowed her eyes. Her thoughts grew bitter. _Everyone always wants something. I can't believe I thought she was different,_ she berated herself silently.

"You don't have to check in with me or anything—I'm neither your mother nor your Head of House. But if you're going to miss something major like the Halloween Feast, a head's up would be nice." Belinda's head shot up and she stared at Diana in shock. That hadn't been what she'd been expecting to hear. Diana just smiled sadly. "I was really worried about you when you didn't show up. Not to mention that half our year-mates seemed to know what was going on and weren't the least bit surprised you weren't there." Her smile turned a little wry. "As your best friend, it's kind of galling that they weren't expecting you at the Feast and I was. It's worse that they were right."

Belinda suddenly understood what Diana was talking about. Diana wasn't upset that Belinda hadn't gone to the Feast, it was that everyone around her wasn't surprised about it when she was. "I'm sorry," Belinda breathed. "I never thought…."

Diana smiled, genuinely this time. "It's okay. All's well that ends well, and all that jazz. I'm just glad you never left the Common Room."


	16. Quidditch

A/N: I made up an incantation for the Stinging Hex. Couldn't find one online.

* * *

**Chapter 16**

**Quidditch**

Apparently there _had_ been students out that night: Hermione Granger had gone after the troll and Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had gone after her. Diana just shook her head at the stupidity of children before ignoring the commentary in the Common Room about the stupidity of Gryffindors.

It wasn't long, however, before talk came around to the first Quidditch game of the season. Slytherin would be playing Gryffindor tomorrow.

"Hey, Adamson!"

Diana finished the sentence she was reading and looked up from _Magic and the Mind_. She and Belinda were sharing a small couch. Both were sitting sideways so that their backs were supported by the arm of the couch and their stocking-covered legs were sharing the middle space between them. "Yes, Malfoy?" she inquired.

"Who's your favorite Quidditch team?"

Diana blinked at him.

"Oh, that's right," he drawled, "you're an American. All _they_ play is _quodpot_." Several people around them laughed.

Diana shrugged before returning to her book. "Actually, I've never been much of one for sports."

The people around her fell silent and Diana could feel the astonishment and near-horror battering her shields. Finally, she looked up again. Malfoy was staring at her. Diana was pretty sure the only thing keeping him from being slack-jawed was the iron control of centuries of etiquette training in his blood. "Yes?"

"You don't like sports? _At all_!?" he exclaimed.

Diana glanced at Belinda, who was observing the exchange with interest. She sighed and turned back to Malfoy. "Look, I'm not interested in most sports unless I'm playing. And seeing as I'm terrible at pretty much every team sport out there, I figure I can support my team best by staying the hell away from the playing field."

A voice spoke from behind Diana. "Just _team_ sports?"

Diana arched her back until she could look over the arm of the couch, albeit upside down. Sitting there, apparently practicing the latest Transfiguration lesson, was Theo. "I like archery," she admitted. "Even if it _is_ kind of obscure. I imagine I'll like dueling well enough when we get to that point."

"Too bad Hogwarts doesn't have a dueling team," Theo told her dryly.

"Yeah, too bad," she agreed, letting herself fall back down. "I'd join now and let them kick my ass until I learned enough from them to kick theirs back." She glanced at Malfoy, who had started shaking his head at her. "What?"

"I knew Americans were strange," he said. "But how can you not like Quidditch?"

Diana appealed to Belinda.

"Don't look at me," was the reply. "I'm not much of a player, but I support the Holyhead Harpies. A subtle remind to the men in our lives that women can be just as brutal as they are."

"_Subtle_!?" Malfoy exclaimed. "They're about as subtle as a Gryffindor plot!"

Belinda smirked at her cousin. "They're as subtle as they can be for _certain_ men and boys to still get the message." She went back to her book, smirking all the while.

Diana broke out into laughter as Theo hid a smile. Draco looked blank for several moments before he realized what Belinda had been implying. Even worse, it took him so long to understand what she'd said that it made it all the more embarrassing. His temper overtook him and he whipped out his wand. "_Mordeo_!" he snapped.

Simultaneously, two things happened. Belinda cried out from the pain of the Stinging Hex as Diana exclaimed, "_Immobulus._"

Diana leapt up from the couch and stood before her immobilized classmate. "Now listen here, you little idiot," she hissed, the tip of her pine wand digging ever so slightly into Draco's chest. "Belinda is your _cousin_. That means she's _family_. I don't know how things work here, but where I'm from family _protects_ one another. So consider this your last warning: Hurt Belinda again, and if I find out about it, I will _retaliate_. And I'm a _big_ believer in the punishment creatively fitting the crime. No one will be able to stop me, because no one but you and I will know it's me. _Do you understand_?" She saw the fear in the blonde's eyes. "Good." She paused. "One thing, _this_ was not retaliation. This was keeping you still and silent long enough to listen to reason." She leaned back and whispered, "_Finite incantatum_," as she flicked her wand.

Ignoring the stunned silence in the Common Room, she picked up her book from where it had fallen on the floor and calmly headed to her room.

Belinda glanced around the room. She hadn't seen Diana appear that scary before, but it didn't seem to have affected her quite the same way it had affected the rest of the Slytherins present. _Maybe because that intimidation was in my defense,_ she mused. She saw Draco still apparently frozen in place, though it was through fear now, not a spell. Theo looked impressed behind his fear. As Belinda kept looking, she saw no fewer than three Prefects in the room; Selwyn and Montague looked a bit frightened and all the more stunned for it, while Addams observed where Diana had disappeared to with a small, fright-inducing smile of her own. The few Sixth and Seventh years in the room looked mildly (or not-so-mildly) impressed, the Fourth and Fifth years seemed to feel no small amount of trepidation, while the Second and Third years seemed petrified.

A thought struck Belinda. "Theo," she asked quietly. "Did you see her pull her wand?"

Theo stared at Belinda a moment before he processed what he'd been asked. "No," he admitted. "And I had a good view. Near as I can tell it just appeared in her hand."

Belinda nodded once before gazing after Diana thoughtfully. After a few moments' debate, she decided to leave Diana alone for now. She curled back up on the couch and returned to her book as the Common Room slowly began to regain its previous levels of conversation.

* * *

The Saturday of the first Quidditch match of the year dawned bright and clear. Diana was just going to be grateful when the damn game was over: attending an all girl's high school in the suburbs of a large city the first time she was young hadn't exactly prepared her for the fever that infected the entire school. She shook her head slightly when she saw Professors Snape and McGonagall exchanging words about the upcoming game (and taunts, judging by some of the expressions that were accompanying the discussion).

"You _are_ coming to the game, right?" Belinda asked, climbing into her usual meal-time seat.

Diana sighed. "Yes," she admitted. "Something tells me there's a horrid fate that befalls all Slytherins who dare to skip out on games."

Belinda laughed as she helped herself to some eggs. "You probably aren't far off," she admitted, looking down the table. At the end near the doors was the Slytherin team, being far noisier than Slytherins generally were during meals.

Diana wasn't really paying attention to the conversation around her, so perhaps that was why she was the first person to see the slight figure in Gryffindor Quidditch robes as he walked into the Great Hall, flanked by his two shadows. "Oh hell," she muttered.

"What?"

"You know that 'secret weapon' Gryffindor has managed to actually keep secret?" Diana asked.

Everyone around her—her fellow First Years as well as a couple older students—gave her their attention.

Diana motioned at the doors of the Great Hall where Harry Potter was now heading over to his fellow Gryffindor teammates. "I think it's Potter."

Diana just sat back and enjoyed the outrage and swearing going on around her while idly trying to trace the low-burning hatred that was common when Potter's name was mentioned. _Sooner or later I _will_ figure this out__,_ she thought to herself.

* * *

"So, what do you think?"

Diana glanced at Belinda briefly. "I may have to admit I was wrong," she admitted. "About the only sport I like watching is volleyball, but this isn't too bad." She paused a moment to cheer as Slytherin's Chasers scored a goal. "Think I might be interested in playing, but nothing serious. Just, you know, friendly games."

Belinda nudged her a bit with a smile then joined as the crowd "boo'd" the Gryffindors scoring a goal.

They were a good twenty, thirty minutes into the game when Diana got distracted. Belinda saw her looking nearly straight up and followed her gaze to see Potter jerking about on his broom. Belinda felt a cold, sinking feeling in her stomach as she realized someone was trying to kill the Boy Who Lived. _Not that she actually _cared_ about him,_ she hastily reassured herself. But she didn't necessarily want to see him die in front of her, either. "What could cause that?" Diana asked quietly.

"A curse," Belinda said, just as quietly. "It would take a lot of power, and constant chanting. Brooms are pretty resistant to being messed with like that."

"So the person responsible would have to be here?" Diana began looking around.

"Probably not a student," Belinda added, as she followed Diana's lead. She looked towards her left, were the faculty box was.

Diana leaned around Belinda to inspect the teachers. While many of them were looking up by now, most were gasping, or near-panicking. One, however, appeared to be focused intently on Potter, chanting and not blinking.

Belinda saw it a moment after Diana did. "On it," she said.

Diana's eyes widened as she saw Belinda run for the stairs. She shook her head, then turned back towards Potter. He was a lot lower now, and the Weasley twins were flying underneath him, trying to be placed to catch him if he lost his grip on the broom that was jerking around, then stopping, then jerking then stopping. Almost as though two opposing forces were working upon it. She ran through her minor repertoire of spells and found the closest thing she could think of to help was a _Wingardium Leviosa_, and she was pretty sure it didn't quite work the way she was intending to use it if Potter fell. Still, she pulled her wand and gathered her magical power.

A glance at the faculty stands, however, caused her to let go of her power again. Belinda had made it to their suspect and…abruptly, Granger rushed past and blocked Diana's view for a critical moment. However, it was easy to see Professor Quirrell fall forward and nearly land on his face. Diana sighed in relief, then tensed up as she saw Professor Snape on the other side of the Defense teacher with his robes on fire…and were those blue flames?

Either way, Diana was able to see that Potter had control of his broom again and the poor boy rushed for the ground. He landed in an untidy heap and, as Belinda rejoined her, Harry Potter spit the snitch out of his mouth and into his hand.

"That figures," Belinda groaned. "The idiot almost dies and _still_ manages to win the game. _Bastard_," she hissed.

Diana was amused. "To be fair, I don't think he did it on purpose," she admitted.

"I'm sure he didn't." Belinda was more than a little sour. "He just has all kinds of luck. It's uncanny."

* * *

As they were leaving the pitch, Diana spotted Professor Snape. He looked quite displeased, but that wasn't surprising considering his robes were leaving bits of ash behind as he walked. Fortunately they didn't look _too_ burned, just a little singed around the hem. What surprised her, though, was that he was limping.

Diana nudged Belinda. "What's up with Professor Snape?" she asked. She didn't realize it, but her voice had taken on the tone of a teacher trying to make a student think.

Belinda responded to the tone rather well. She studied him for several moments. "Well, his robes are singed, but seeing as he was set on fire, that's not too surprising." She cocked her head slightly. "He's limping!"

Diana smiled slightly. "What do you think caused that?" she asked.

Belinda tilted her head the other way. "Really, it could have been almost anything," she admitted. "But I doubt it was the fire: burns hurt far worse than what he's showing."

Diana grinned. "Good. And good job not drawing conclusions when you don't have the facts. However, don't be so sure on the level of pain: different people have different pain thresholds. Although burns really are one of the worst ones out there," she admitted.

"Is there a way we can find out what it was?" Belinda asked curiously.

Diana's grin turned into a smirk. "Well, he's not near anyone…." Belinda followed as Diana veered off towards their Head of House.

Professor Snape was _not_ having a pleasant day. His calf hurt like hell, someone had tried to kill Potter and only Snape's own timely intervention had saved his life, his brand-new robes were scorched because some _miscreant_ had decided to prank the "dungeon bat" (thank Merlin it had been about half a second _after_ Potter's attacker had stopped the curse), and Potter had somehow managed to catch the snitch anyway! So when he heard the voice of one of his students, he wasn't pleased.

Even if she was one of the entertaining ones.

"Professor Snape, you've been limping all day and you still haven't gone to see Madame Pomfrey."

Snape snarled at the girl who had trotted up to walk beside him with Belinda just beyond her.

The cheeky brat had the gall to laugh, before growing serious. "Really, sir, I'm good with wounds. If you'd rather keep quiet about it, that is."

He stopped and whirled on the girl, pleased at the flash of fear in her eyes as she took half a step back. Belinda simply froze where she was. Fortunately, there was no one immediately around them. Snape wanted privacy for this conversation. "Miss Adamson," he said in his best 'do not meddle in the affairs of potion masters, for they are subtle and have access to a wide variety of poisons' voice. "Miss Adamson, what makes you think I'm going to turn to a student for assistance if Madame Pomfrey is unable to help? Unlike your illicit forays into forbidden territory, I am a teacher at this school and am permitted the run of the castle." He turned and continued walking. "Besides, you are a _Slytherin_, not a Gryffindor. Try to show a modicum of subtlety."

He heard the pair chase after him. He restrained a sigh at the knowledge that they weren't going to go away.

However, neither girl spoke until they were up several floors in the castle and away from any other students. And it was Belinda who spoke up, her quiet voice failing to echo in the corridor. "We were just worried about our Head of House. We're sorry if that's not permitted, sir."

Snape's sigh escaped this time as he turned to face the pair. "I appreciate the thought, Miss Black," he told her. "Unneeded though it is. I will be _fine_. Now, go run off and do whatever it is you wish to do after the ignominious defeat we suffered on the pitch today. I must speak to the Headmaster."

Belinda and Diana both giggled. The Professor's voice sounded _so_ long-suffering about their defeat! Belinda turned to go, but waited when Diana didn't move.

Snape looked down and found the American girl studying him with eyes that were _far_ too old for her face. After a moment, she said, "As you wish, sir," before turning and following Belinda.

He frowned slightly, knowing he was missing something about the girl, but still unable to figure out just what it was. After the First years turned the corner and were out of sight, he continued on to the Headmaster's office to report on the events of the Quidditch match.


	17. Discussions and Attempts at Friendship

A/N: So, one or two people have asked about the Golden Trio. If you've stuck with me this long, here's the first bit of interactions between them and Diana. And as far as Diana's knowledge of who Flamel is, I'm going off myself for that one: yes, I knew of Nicolas Flamel and the philosopher's stone before the Harry Potter books came out.

Also, I always thought Neville was one of the bravest people in that series. In the sense that certain things terrified him and he dealt with them anyway. Think about it: he endured class with his greatest fear twice a week for _five years_. No wonder he was a bada$$ by his seventh year.

* * *

**Chapter 17**

**Discussions and Attempts at Friendship**

The dynamic duo were enjoying a random semi-warm day and hanging out on one of the covered walkways between the Astronomy tower and the Divination tower. Diana was practicing Switching Spells which, oddly enough, were one of the few Transfiguration spells she didn't seem to have any problems with. Belinda was working on a Potions essay and harassing Diana periodically for things she didn't understand.

She'd finished up on why newt's eyes were an unacceptable substitute for fish eyes in a hair growth potion and sat up so she could stretch before moving on to why it had to be stirred clockwise the entire time. "Hey Diana?"

"Mmmm?"

"Do you think we should've told Professor Snape that Professor Quirrell was chanting at Potter during the game last weekend?"

Diana sat back and pulled her mind away from the magic she was practicing. She thought for a moment. "He wasn't _that_ far away in the stands," she said hesitantly. "Don't you think he'd already know?"

Belinda shook her head. "Not necessarily. It's not like you have to be speaking loudly to keep the curse going."

Diana sighed. "I don't really want to approach him again so soon, you know?"

Belinda nodded. "I do. But…I can't believe I'm saying this about _Potter_ of all people," she marveled as she interrupted herself. "But it's kind of important to report that kind of information. Unless we're going to sit on it for our own purposes. I just can't think of anything to use it for except blackmail."

Diana shot Belinda a warning look.

"Oh, don't," Belinda told her. "I didn't say it would be a _good_ idea. In fact, blackmailing a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, even one frightened of his own shadow, is a very _poor_ idea."

Diana nodded once and incanted another Switching Spell at the two quills she was practicing on before sitting back and putting one of the quills away. "Well, since I can't really see any reason to sit on the info either, I guess one of us will have to tell the Professor."

The pair fell silent for several moments.

"We could write him a note," Belinda finally said.

Diana laughed briefly. "Yeah, that's not a half bad idea," she agreed. She reached into her bag and pulled out a piece of parchment and an inkwell. "You want to write it?" she asked hopefully.

Belinda sighed. "Put it over here and I'll get on it as soon as I'm done with my essay." She bent over the aforementioned assignment and began writing again.

Diana, meanwhile, pulled out _The Standard Book of Spells_ and began working ahead in Charms.

Several minutes later, Belinda's voice interrupted Diana's work on trying to make her closed inkwell dance. "So, I know it's still early November," she started casually, "but were you planning on going home for Christmas?"

Diana let her inkwell stop its little waltz. "No," she said simply. "Sensei already said he and Duncan were going back to Seacouver at the beginning of December. Connor left in early September for New York. And I really don't have any desire to spend the holidays with anyone else," she admitted. "So, it looks like I'm staying here."

Belinda sighed. "I have no idea if Uncle Lucius will let me stay here or not. I'd rather not go back to Malfoy Manor, but when I asked in my last letter to him, he made a comment about it 'being a time for family,' which generally means he wants to yell at me for something. Because he doesn't really seem to care about us being family otherwise."

Diana grimaced. "That kind of sucks. I can't say I'm looking forward to being one of the few students here over Christmas, but at least I don't have to listen to a lecture from my guardian."

Belinda smiled sourly. "Well, it's not like it'll be the first time." She pulled the parchment for the letter to their Head of House in front of her. "And it could be worse. I could be going back to the Carrows," she shuddered.

Diana narrowed her eyes at the girl. She didn't like the way Belinda talked about most of her guardians, but 'the Carrows' were a new name and a new tone. There was more than a little fear, with a bit of hate mixed in. She opened her mouth to ask, but decided to hold off for now. Belinda was focusing on her current letter with a vengeance, as though trying to ignore any memories that she'd brought up by mentioning them. So Diana turned thoughtfully back to her inkwell.

* * *

Several weeks later, the day before the Hogwarts Express was leaving to take most of the students back to their families, Diana found herself in the library, looking for Theo. She wanted to ask if the loner boy would be willing to sit with Belinda on the train. It wouldn't be perfect protection for her, but better the two of them together—maybe with Bulstrode as well—than each individually. She was deep in the library and studying the shelves beside her (okay, so she got easily distracted when there were books around: especially when she saw one titled _Bringing Light to the Shadows: Hidden Orders and Secret Societies Exposed_) when she heard a voice say, "This is the last chance I have to help you look for information on Nicolas Flamel until after the new year. You'll have to do the research on your own for a few weeks."

Diana snagged the book she'd been eyeing and briefly peeked around the shelves. There was the Gryffindor Trio, with Hermione handing out books from a huge stack beside her. She ducked back into hiding. _Flamel?_ she thought curiously. _Where have I heard that name before? Nicolas Flamel, Nicolas Flamel. Oh!_ It hit her like a ton of light bulbs. _Nicolas Flamel is the only person known to have discovered the formula for the Philosopher's Stone._ She blinked. _He's _real_!?_ As the astonishment wore off, she wondered, _Why the hell are they trying to figure out who he is?_

She shook her head and opened up the book she was holding. The "Hidden Orders" part of the title had her hoping it would have something about the Order of the Fulmina in it. It was true that she knew full well the _real_ secrets of the Fulmina, but she really did want to know what the Wizarding World "knew" about them. That way, she wouldn't inadvertently contradict something that "everyone knew."

She flipped past pages of defunct groups, paused a bit to read about how the Illuminati were secretly just a Wizarding prank on some "gullible Muggles" and the Golden Dawn had been an attempt to use Muggles to boost the power of ritual spellcasting. She finally found a bit on the "Order of the Fulmina" and wandered slowly to the end of the row, reading as she went.

It wasn't until she heard, "Well, you're just going to have to look in the Restricted Section over break for information on Nicolas Flamel," that she remembered about the Golden Trio. She stopped and looked over at the group. Potter and Ron Weasley were looking back and forth between Granger and Diana with looks of comical horror on their faces. Diana blinked a few times, trying to pull her focus back out of the book. "Who?" she asked, still sounding a little off.

Granger whipped her head around and stared at Diana in shock.

When no one answered her, Diana raised an eyebrow. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

Granger finally spoke up. "Um, no one…," she managed weakly.

Diana snorted. "You were talking about Nicolas Flamel," she pointed out as she closed her book, a finger marking where she'd been. She tried to allay some of their obvious worries with a comforting lie. "Can't say as I really caught much before that," she admitted, "but I'm pretty sure I'm at least more familiar with the library than the red head here, so if you can give me some context, I might be able to help." She sat down in the fourth chair at their table and looked at them expectantly. She lowered her shields a bit to try and get a taste of their emotions.

Granger and Potter exchanged a look. Weasley, on the other hand, snapped out, "We don't need help from a slimy snake."

Diana stared at him emotionlessly for a moment before mentally writing him off as a bigot and an idiot. He'd actually felt offended that she would even offer to help them. "What about you two?" she asked.

"Thank you for the offer," Potter said, far more politely than his friend, "but I think we'll be alright."

Diana studied him for a moment, feeling both his discomfort with Weasley's phrasing and his resolution to support his friend. A single glance at Granger showed she'd be going along with what the boys said, no matter how much she thought they needed the help. Diana turned back to Potter and gave him a brief, pained smile. "Very well," she told him. She stood. "My apologies for putting myself forward where I'm not wanted," she finished formally with a slight bow.

As Diana left she found herself thinking, _Why do I feel like my feelings were just hurt? They're _children_, which means they don't know any better and I really shouldn't _want_ to make friends with them anyway!_ Unfortunately, telling herself she shouldn't care just seemed to make her care _more_. She dashed the threatening tears away from her eyes and shook herself once to refocus herself on the matter at hand. _Theo. Check out this book from Madame Pince, then try to find Theo._

In her rush to leave the library, she collided with someone else with an "_Oomph_" and both of them went down. Diana found her rear end hurting far more than she really liked. A familiar, arrogant voice drawled from somewhere off to her right, "Merlin, Longbottom, don't you _ever_ watch where you're going?" Diana looked up and saw Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson laughing at the other person on the floor with her.

"Sorry!"

She turned to see Neville Longbottom trying to hastily gather his things. Diana got up as far as her knees and began sorting through the mess of books and papers on the floor. "Hey," she said quietly, "it's at least half my fault. I wasn't watching where I was going, and if you _were_…well, then this is kind of all my fault," she admitted.

Neville hesitated with a small smile.

"Adamson, why are talking with _him_?" Parkinson scolded. "Are you really that desperate to make friends?"

Diana saw the brief pain cross Longbottom's face before she looked up at Parkinson and allowed the girl to see her annoyance. The blonde girl squeaked and took half a step back. Diana was appalled: she hadn't been _trying_ to scare the girl. _Apparently she scares easily,_ a little voice in her head noted. "No, Pansy," Diana drawled, "but it's one of the marks of a great man or woman that they can admit when they're in the wrong and try to fix their mistakes." She snorted as she turned back to helping Neville with his things. "Besides, it's not like fixing the results of me colliding with Longbottom here are going to be anything more than spending a few moments spent helping him pick up his things. Which is something _decent_ human beings would do anyway," she snapped.

"Rule One, Adamson," Malfoy growled.

Diana shot a glare at Malfoy, then smiled surgery-sweet. "You're right, Malfoy. Weren't you saying a few minutes ago that you, Crabbe, and Goyle still needed to pack? You don't want to have to rush your packing in the morning, do you?"

The four glared at Diana for several more moments, but were just as hampered by Rule One as she was. As they left, though, Malfoy apparently couldn't resist a parting shot of, "Enjoy your holiday unwanted and alone, Adamson!"

Diana hissed, letting her frustration grow because the alternative was nearly crying. _The longer I'm a child, the harder it is to see and reason as an adult,_ she griped. _Particularly when I get emotional._

"Th…Thank you."

Diana looked up, surprise halting the tears. Frankly, she'd half-forgotten Longbottom was there. A smile crossed her face as her frustration faded. "It was my pleasure," she said simply. The Slytherin and Gryffindor stood. "And, like I said, I'm pretty sure it was my fault we collided."

Longbottom shook his head. "I'm clumsy. You're not the only one to blame."

A sense of welcome amusement washed over Diana. "Well," she said lightly, "rather than us both trying to horde all the blame for ourselves, why don't we just agree to share and let it go at that?"

The shy Gryffindor smiled a bit. "Alright."

"So, where were you headed? Because these are a lot of books to be carrying without a bag."

He blushed again. "I was trying to find a table I could do some last minute research at. I'm pretty much packed, and I wanted to study up a bit on the Devil's Snare before break."

"Well, go ahead and find a table," Diana told him, "I'll help you carry your things there before I head out."

Diana wasn't exactly pleased for herself when she found Longbottom taking a table near the Gryffindor Trio, but she understood that he'd feel a little safer near some other members of his own House. She put the stack of books on the table and retrieved her own. "Well, Longbottom, good luck with the research."

"Please," he piped up, "call me Neville?"

Diana blinked and smiled at the shy warmth that came from the boy. "I'd be happy to, Neville. As long as you call me Diana." He nodded. Diana could feel his pleasure cresting against her shields. "So, good luck with the research, Neville. And I hope you have a good Christmas break."

He blushed a little as he nodded. "Thank you again, Diana. And I hope your break goes well too."

Diana's smile faltered a touch, but she reinforced it. "I'm sure it will." She started to leave, but paused. "Do you have anyone to ride the train back with?"

He shook his head. "I was going try to find someone who's willing to let me have a corner, why?"

"I'm trying to make sure Belinda has company, or Malfoy will probably begin harassing her earlier than he has to. Since you probably should avoid him until after the Holidays yourself, you could sit with her on the train." She could see the hesitation on his face. "I imagine Nott and maybe Bulstrode will be sitting with her. I know a compartment of Slytherins is not exactly where you'd _usually_ find a Gryffindor, but none of Slytherin House would mess with you while in their company. And if they _do_," she added darkly, "let me know and I'll take care of it."

Neville hesitated several long moments. "I'll think about it," he demurred.

Diana could tell that was code for, "I'd rather not, but I'm not going to be so rude as to flat out say 'no.'" She shrugged. "As you wish. Take care!"

"You too."

* * *

The next morning, Belinda was pleased to find herself with Theo and "Millie" Bulstrode sitting with her on the train. She was surprised to see Neville Longbottom ("Mind if I join you? Everywhere else is full and Diana mentioned you might let me sit here") of all people ask to join them. There was a rather large part of Belinda that suddenly found herself admiring Neville's bravery in sitting in a compartment of Snakes. Even though the four barely spoke a dozen words all together, it made the train ride not seem not nearly as lonely as it could have been.


	18. A Taste of the Holidays

A/N: So, a rather philosophy-filled chapter. Sorry if it's not your thing.

* * *

**Chapter 18**

**A Taste of the Holidays**

After the train left, Diana found she was the only Slytherin who had stayed at school over the holidays. It made things far worse on the loneliness front than they could have been. It didn't help that Diana was an avowed homebody: if she wasn't forced to leave the Snake Pit for meals, it was entirely likely she'd spend the entire holiday in either the Common Room or her dorm room.

However, she _was_ forced to leave for meals, and at the first lunch she took stock of everyone who had remained behind. There were two Ravenclaw Fifth Years, one Hufflepuff Seventh Year, and half of Gryffindor Tower.

…Okay, not really half of Gryffindor, but four Weasleys (two of which were the twins) and one Harry Potter made for far more red and gold at meals than Diana really felt comfortable with. Especially when the oldest Weasley—the Prefect—was widely accepted as an officious boot-licker in training (not something Slytherins were against in and of itself, but have some _dignity_ for Merlin's sake!). Especially _especially_ when the twins were confined to a castle that didn't have a whole lot of distractions…and Gryffindors traditionally thought Slytherins were _great_ distractions.

So Diana found herself having to fight her innate tendencies to hole up with a good book. It was easy to notice the first day that, while her room didn't feel too different, the Common Room felt achingly empty. Slytherins were a generally quiet bunch, but the Common Room always had the sururrushes of whispers and low-held discussions. And even if a Snake miraculously found the Common Room empty, there was still the feel of the other Snakes nearby. She didn't have any of that now.

It was after dinner, but not yet curfew and Diana was sitting in a chair near the fireplace, trying to get involved in a good book. She'd gone with leisure-reading and had found what looked to be a Wizarding romance novel set during the First War. Unfortunately it was looking like the book was more of a bathtub novel (an easy read with no redeeming literary value whatsoever that could be read in the time it took to have a bath—they were the Lifetime specials of the literary world). While Diana had nothing against bathtub novels, they weren't involved enough to absorb her attention enough to get her mind off of the emptiness of the Common Room.

Which why she heard the door _click_ as it opened. So she was looking at the entryway when Professor Snape walked in. "How are you enjoying your first evening with the Common Room to yourself?"

Diana straightened up (speaking with your Head of House while lounging with your back on one arm of the chair and your legs hanging off the other arm wasn't exactly smiled upon). "It's very quiet, sir," she said simply, putting the novel with the other books on the coffee table near her. She put her shields up, but only halfway: she generally found being in Professor Snape's presence soothing as long as no one else was around.

Professor Snape nodded and took a seat in the chair across from her. "Is there any particular reason you didn't go home?" he asked.

Diana smiled bitterly. "Sensei went back to Seacouver, Washington at the beginning of the month," she told him. "He said it wasn't worth it to spend a day and half traveling each way." She shrugged lightly, pushing the pain of abandonment away. "It's not like I need to spend time with him anyway," she added, nearly defiant. "He's put up with me for several years. It's only fair he get a break to focus on his own projects for a while."

After a moment of silence, Diana glanced at her Head of House and saw he hadn't really bought what she'd been saying. That was alright: she didn't really believe it either. "Really, sir, he didn't abandon me," she told him. "He did say I could go if I wanted and he would pick me up, it just seemed to be more hassle than it would be worth."

Professor Snape held silent for a moment before changing the subject. "Did you have the chance to order Christmas presents for everyone you wanted to?"

Diana smiled. "Yes, actually. Some of the prefects explained the whole 'owl order' thing to us. Fortunately, some of the places I ordered from were willing to ship to the States. Otherwise I'd've had to figure something else out for a few people."

"Language, Miss Adamson," Snape murmured.

Diana blinked a couple of times, confused. Then she realized he meant the utter lack of improper English (whether American or British) she'd used. "Sorry Professor," she replied with a blush.

He accepted her apology with a simple nod. "Have you thought about leaving the Common Room over break? Or were you going to stay hiding in here reading?"

Diana's smile was small and self-deprecating. "I think I'm going to make myself stay away between breakfast and lunch every day," she admitted. "Otherwise I'll forget to leave for anything other than meals. And the timing would be off, even for them." She shrugged a bit. "I don't really think I'll have the chance to make any friends with the others," she admitted. "Two OWL students, a NEWT student, Prefect Weasley, the Terror Twins, Potter and mini-Weasley don't make for much of a selection of people to hang out with."

Professor Snape's ears caught the sour tone when Diana mentioned her fellow Year mates. He was curious, especially after the reason for her detention on the first Saturday of the year. "You don't think you could spend time with Potter and Weasley? Is it because they're Gryffindors?"

Diana shook her head. "No," she said sourly. "It's because I tried to make friends yesterday and _Ronald_," her voice was scathing, "thought he was too good to associate with a Slytherin. Potter and Granger refused to say anything against him, so clearly whatever little mystery they're working on isn't as important to them as their moral superiority. Or whatever excuse Weasley uses for his bigotry," she finished bitterly.

"So it ever is, with Gryffindors." Snape's words were quiet and reflective.

Diana sighed and shook herself. "Really, sir, I'll be alright. The time alone will be conducive to giving my shields a break as well as giving me time to focus on a few pet projects of mine."

"Oh? Such as?"

Diana's countenance grew brighter and she grew animated. "First of all, are we allowed to decorate our rooms?" At her Head of House's slight nod, she continued, "I want to see what sorts of things I can do with the room," she admitted. "It's fantastic as is, but playing around with the colors of the walls, the carpets and the beds would be a lot of fun. And I want to see if I can make a calendar for the rest of the school year. You know, like one I can write on for when assignments are due and the like?" She reached onto the table and grabbed the other two books she'd placed there. "I'm about done with the exercises in _Magic and the Mind_, so I thought I'd check the library and see if there's anything further on the subject. And this book on secret societies in the Wizarding World has actually been fascinating reading.

"The Order of the Fulmina is in here, though some of the so-called 'facts' are hilariously wrong. Although," she admitted, "I'd actually be worried if they were right. But have you ever heard of the Knights of Walpurgis?" Diana missed the way her teacher froze. "Apparently they were started somewhere around fifty years ago as a group dedicated to Blood Purity, and Pureblood Superiority. They have a few good points," she admitted, "but they don't seem to realize that the close in-breeding they're talking about makes a closed population like the one they want rife with genetic diseases. The sorts of things that occasional breeding with a member from outside the blood can help prevent." She looked up at Professor Snape, who had managed to control himself by now. "The book says a lot of them were wealthy, which I'd imagine means at least some of them own livestock, some of which are breeding stock, right?" At Snape's faint nod, Diana frowned. "Not to compare humans to animals, but it's basic animal husbandry that if you breed within the line too often the bloodline grows weak. You _need_ the occasional fresh blood to strengthen them."

Snape finally found his voice. "I imagine many of them don't maintain their herds themselves," he told her. "They generally hire others to do such things for them."

Diana frowned. "Not knowing what the help should be doing is a whole other problem. Stupid in-breds," she muttered.

Professor Snape found himself startled into a small laugh. Here was this little girl who, with one basic argument, put paid to the primary argument of the Pureblood agenda. However, he rather thought he'd enjoy trying to outrage her…as well as teaching her just how far some of the Purebloods would go. "Some members of the Knights had your same problem with in-breeding. Do you know what they suggested?"

Diana frowned before glancing back down at the book. "Were they as ruthless as this text makes them seem?" she countered.

"Let's say that they were."

Diana grimaced. "There's a way to identify young children with Magic, right?" she asked. "Otherwise there would be no way for the Muggleborns to receive a Hogwarts' letter."

"There is," Snape replied. "There's a spell that blankets Britain and Ireland and scribes the names of children into a book here at Hogwarts. The name is scribed in if the child is born and has a certain power level, or upon the child's first accidental magic at approximately two to four years of age."

"Well, then, it would be easy enough to track those children down and take them from their families," she said, clearly appalled by what she was saying. "They could then be raised as Wizarding children so they would absorb the customs and mores of Wizarding society." She shook her head a bit. "Then there's also keeping Muggleborns around as breeding stock." She turned desperate eyes on her teacher. "_Please_ tell me this is just my sick and twisted mind and that people didn't _actually_ want to do these things!"

Severus Snape was rather impressed. Every time he spoke with this girl, he found that she was more insightful than any student he'd known up to Fifth Year…and more insightful than most Seventh Years as well. "Unfortunately, both are ideas that some have spoken of. However, there are always extremists, no matter what side of an issue you look at."

Diana snorted. "No joke. I've always been more of a moderate myself. I tend to see both sides too well. Like, I can understand why Purebloods would be worried that they'll lose their cultural identity to the influx of Muggleborns and Half-Bloods. Isn't something like half the school made up of non-Purebloods?"

"A little over half," Snape agreed.

"Well, there you go," Diana said with equanimity. "The threat of Muggle culture overtaking Pureblood culture is a real one. One the Purebloods have to deal with somehow. Though there are healthier ways than 'kill them all,'" she drawled.

"Such as?"

Diana stared at Professor Snape for several long moments. "You haven't really put in your side, sir," she commented.

He smirked. "I want to hear what you have to say. It's interesting to hear an American's view on the troubles of the British Wizarding World."

Diana smirked back. "Of course, sir," she drawled. She could sense the half-truth of the previous statement, and the Potions Master was making no attempt to hide the deception from her. Truthfully, there was a part of her that appreciated that he wasn't trying to hide his lies: it felt more honest than a lot of people. "Well, one way to deal with the influx of non-Wizarding raised students would be to make two mandatory classes: Muggle Studies for Wizardborns and Wizarding Studies for Muggleborns. A _proper_," she emphasized, "view of Muggle culture could teach Wizardborn students the up and down sides of the rest of the world. And a Wizarding Studies course would teach Muggleborns a lot of the things they don't know about the world into which they've been thrust." She sat back. "So where do you stand on the Pureblood versus Muggleborn issue, sir?"

Snape studied the girl through half-lidded eyes. "Tell me where you think I stand, Miss Adamson, and I will answer your question."

Diana lips quirked up in a smirk. "Frankly, sir? I think you hate everyone equally."

Snape found himself matching the girl's smirk. "You aren't far off, Miss Adamson," he agreed. "There are individuals that I find are not quite so irritating as most, but overall I dislike most of the individuals I meet."

Diana felt her smile slide away as she realized something. "Then, do you have no friends?" she asked. "Because, if you'll pardon the presumption sir, that sounds like a lonely way to go through life."

Diana knew instantly that she'd gone too far. Professor Snape's expression and emotions both closed off behind his Occlumency walls. Before he had the chance to say anything, Diana blurted out, "I'm sorry, sir! I shouldn't have said that. It's none of my business, and certainly not my place."

Professor Snape nodded once. "No, it's not any of your business," he drawled. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Miss Adamson, I have papers to grade." He stood and strode for the door. He wasn't sure what caused him to stop and glance back, but young Adamson looked quite distraught and upset with herself. _Maybe she values company more than she's willing to admit,_ he realized. Before he realized what he was doing he said, "Miss Adamson," her head jerked up to look at him, "I generally have tea in my office at four in the afternoon. I usually extend a daily invitation for any Slytherins who are here over the holidays. If you're interested."

He was pleased to see her face light up. "Thank you, sir!" she said gratefully. "I would very much appreciate that."

He gave a parting nod before sweeping out of the Common Room.

* * *

A/N2: And this is all I have. The next chapter was meant to be Belinda at the Malfoy's for Christmas; primarily as a way to force me to get a handle on her character. Diana's had far more screen time because I understand her better, but this story really was meant to be about both of them.

Hope you enjoyed it, and here's hoping I'll get around to writing more. Let me know what you think, even if it's just a "Liked it" or "Hated it".


End file.
